


a pumpkin a day

by karone (nekrateholic)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 12:06:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 35,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20835191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekrateholic/pseuds/karone
Summary: a ficlet for each day of october, each with a different ship.





	1. spring (jaemin/donghyuck)

**Author's Note:**

> all the thanks to admin tea and all the pretty prompts <3 october will be a month of stories and you can find all of them in the collection, the twitter thread for day 1 (with more stories!) [here](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1178685935703052289) or [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) and [##00fftober_day1](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober_day1?src=hashtag_click&f=live) directly (there's some amazing art too 👀)
> 
> this is a mix of the 00fftober prompts + [the fictober prompts](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019). it had a max wc once but i broke that rule 2 days in so. also, having 31 different ships sounded a lot better before i encountered The Wall Of Tags  
(alternatively titled: attack of the plot bunnies.)  
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

“It will be fun, trust me!”

These were Jaemin’s exact words and Donghyuck - foolish, foolish Donghyuck - had trusted the twinkle in his eyes, gotten out of the warm bed, into his new boots and followed Jaemin out to enjoy the first day of spring.

Technically the second? The true first day was about a week ago, at home, with a few days of warm spring sun to follow. They enjoyed the sunshine for a total of three days before their flight was scheduled to depart. And what do you know, Europe was still clutched in the cold hands of winter. There wasn't any snow at first, at least, except that, too, changed two days into their trip with a heavy snowfall covering the world in white overnight. But if Donghyuck’s limited English skills are to be trusted, this will be a one-off thing. The weather seems to be changing already, sunlight chasing away the cold, gray air. The snow is melting just as fast as it fell.

Which means, right about now? Donghyuck’s nice, new boots are soaked in snow slush and the constant sound of dirty water draining into the sewer follows them everywhere. Some things seem to be the same everywhere. For once, Jaemin’s sunny smile does very little to fix Donghyuck’s shitty mood.

“I’m not having a lot of fun, Na Jaemin,” he grumbles when the splash of yet another car passing almost hits his jeans. Again. 

“You will!” Jaemin insists, leading him across _ yet another _ busy street. Donghyuck idly wonders if they’ll even manage to find their way back to the airbnb.

They cross another street, walk around a huge building Donghyuck can’t read the name of and end up… at a park?

He stops in his tracks, turning to face Jaemin with all his soaked rage. “Did you bring me out in this stupid weather to show me a park?”

“Sort of,” Jaemin grins, grabbing Donghyuck’s wrist to lead him into the park, heedless of his grumbling. “It’s not the park itself, although it’s really pretty. The lady host said something interesting the other day, I wanted to check it out.”

The excitement is radiating off him in waves and despite Donghyuck’s best attempts, he fails miserably at trying to stay mad.

Thank god Jaemin isn’t looking at him at the moment.

The deeper into the park they go the cleaner the snow is. It’s still melting, sure, but gone is the dirty slush cars move around. There are paths cleared on the main alleys but even they seem cleaner than the sidewalks Donghyuck has gotten used to over the past few days.

Jaemin takes him to one of the side alleys, where the greenery is poking out from under the snow here and there. He crouches down next to one of the more melted spots and swipes a handful of snow aside. At first Donghyuck sees no difference except the patch of green being wider now, snow still dotted throughout it.

He blinks once, twice. Oh. It’s not snow.

“They’re called snowdrops,” Jaemin says proudly, motioning for Donghyuck to crouch as well. He does, because from down here it’s easier to poke at the tiny flowers. They’re like little white bells littered around the wet grass. The snow doesn’t seem to be an issue at all.

He pokes at the petals again. The movement shakes a small chunk of snow free. 

“They’re really pretty,” Donghyuck says, awed. His earlier troubles don’t even register anymore. “Doesn’t the snow hurt them?”

“The landlady said they’re the first spring flowers,” Jaemin explains, clearing another patch. There’s another cluster of snowdrops under it and he pokes at one of them. “Apparently sometimes they start appearing even before the snow has fully melted. And live through surprise snowfalls, I guess.”

“So that’s why you dragged me out of bed at nine in the morning.” Despite his best attempts, Donghyuck’s voice is no longer accusatory, even to his own ears.

Jaemin nods. “When the lady told me about the snowdrops I just had to show them to you. They remind me of you, I think.”

Donghyuck blinks. “Me? Not sunflowers, after all the sunflower jokes?”

“Ah see,” Jaemin starts, “sunflowers are great, but this,” he pokes at another snowdrop. “This little friend comes to show that winter will be over soon. Sun, warmth? This is the first sign of spring.”

Donghyuck blinks again, except this time it’s to blink a very suspicious wetness out of his eyes. Maybe the cold is finally getting to him.

“You’re so cheesy,” he tells Jaemin, even if there’s no bite in the words. Jaemin just beams at him.

*

He ends up stealing a snowdrop, just to tuck it behind Donghyuck’s ear when they’re a safe distance away from the crime scene. Donghyuck take a selfie with it but he just can’t get the snowdrop to behave - its little bell flops down and looks… less than desirable.

“I don’t think they’re made for this,” he sighs eventually, defeated.

He tries to take the snowdrop off but Jaemin just tucks it right back. “Maybe, but you still look great in it. Wanna take the picture together?”

“Sure,” Donghyuck agrees easily, snuggling into Jaemin without prompting. “But I’ll be the one taking the picture, I don’t trust your selfie angles.”

Jaemin huffs but doesn’t protest and Donghyuck counts it as a win. And then, of course, Jaemin plants a kiss on his cheek right before the shutter goes off.

He spends the next ten minutes complaining on principle, even if the picture is now five times cuter than it would’ve been otherwise. He makes Jaemin pose for five more selfies, too, ones where he’s not being a cheesy bastard (the one with the kiss still ends up as his background, though).


	2. fairy tale (jeno/hyuck/jaemin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 22 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “We could have a chance.”  
[00fftober day two thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1179050820064534528), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day2](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY2?src=hashtag_click&f=live)

“Save the princess,” Jeno mutters, aimlessly swinging his sword around. It was targeted when they first entered the stupid thorny forest but the thorns are everywhere. As soon as Jeno slashes through one, another catches him in the arm, face, legs. Places on his body he wasn’t even aware of now carry thorn scars. At this point, the best Jeno can do is shield his eyes and try not to go blind on top of everything. Honestly,  _ fuck the princess. _

Donghyuck, on the other hand, is whistling behind him, somehow unscathed by the thorns. Sure, he’s following Jeno and Jeno’s job is to clear a path but there are plenty of stray thorns left even if he tries (which he hasn’t for hours now) but Donghyuck’s skin is free of slashes and scratches, even his clothes are mostly intact.

Maybe even the thorns know not to spill royal blood.

It’s ridiculous, this whole thing. Save the princess from her curse, wake her up from a ten-year-old slumber, gain her father’s alliance. It’s not even that long of a curse, Jeno has heard of way longer ones but Donghyuck had gotten it in his head that they need this particular princess with this particular curse. And her father’s kingdom, of course. Truthfully, Jeno’s kingdom could do with the help but Jeno isn’t about to admit that to the prince himself, even if they grew up together. Especially because of that.

It was so dramatic, too. 

_ “Please, your majesty. Father.” _ Donghyuck’s words ring through Jeno’s ears still.  _ “I’ll have the best knight in the whole kingdom with me, I’ll be fine but more than that - you need the alliance. We could have a chance.” _

Jeno had been flattered for a grand total of five seconds before it dawned on him that the praise means he has to go. Into the cursed princess’ castle. 

Into the  _ thorns. _

The curse was relatively new, sure, but the rumors about the thorns were floating everywhere. That they were vicious, grew right back as soon as you cut them.  _ Only those of pure heart can save the princess, _ the curse said. A few princes had tried their luck already, came back with their skin in ribbons which made the rest of the candidates back away to save their pretty faces. Jeno is sure that, given another hundred years or so, some dumbass will ruin themselves in the thorns and save the princess  _ somehow. _

But then there’s Donghyuck.

“I don’t understand why you’re so insistent to get this particular princess,” Jeno mutters. “Her father isn’t the only wealthy king around and your father could definitely find someone else to form an alliance with.”

“I’m the youngest prince,” Donghyuck points out. Jeno is about to retort because they grew up together, he knows, but before he can say anything Donghyuck goes on, voice glum. “My mom isn’t even a legitimate queen and the fact that the court is shallow as hell is the only reason they even keep me around.”

It’s true, too. The rumor about Donghyuck’s beauty spread faster than his father could cover up his existence. They made up a ridiculous story to present him as the queen’s long lost son but it’s a public secret that his mom is not, in fact, the queen. There’s a reason he’s not even considered for the throne.

Jeno almost feels bad. Almost, because his sympathy is rudely interrupted by a thorn slapping him across the face. He stops in his tracks, takes a deep breath. “So what?”

“If there will be an alliance, I’ll be the first one shipped off into marriage,” Donghyuck shrugs when Jeno turns to look at him. “I don’t want to get married.”

“But isn’t the reward for saving the princess you know, marrying the princess?” Jeno points out. He’s seeing the iron gates already, even though the thorns seems to get thicker and harder to fend off with each step.

Donghyuck moves closer, fitting himself against Jeno’s back. The thorns are probably growing back behind them. “Well, yes,” he says, his words hitting the exposed part of Jeno’s neck. “But I figure with the whole ten year slumber thing she wouldn’t be too excited to get married. We can probably make an arrangement. Worst case scenario, we’ll get home sans a princess but ugly enough for my dad to stop trying to pawn me off for power.” 

While Jeno’s aware of all this, Donghyuck saying it out loud makes his protests from earlier petty and childish. Jeno is a  _ knight  _ and they’re at the gate already, so he avoids replying by trying to open it.

It wouldn’t budge. Of course.

“It said someone of pure heart,” Donghyuck says. “Let me.” He nudges Jeno aside to push at the gate. As it is, Jeno is nudged into a cluster of thorns. 

The gate remains closed.

“Pure heart, you.” Jeno mutters. “Maybe if we tried together?”

Donghyuck huffs. “Sure, because my impure heart and your most definitely  _ also  _ impure heart will do anything-”

Jeno’s fingers have barely touched the gate where Donghyuck’s hand is, before it opens as easy as if it were made of paper.

Behind the gate, the gardens are… frozen in time. You’d expect that with no one tending to them in ten years they’d be overgrown but no. The hedges are just as neat as Jeno would imagine they were before the curse. He blinks at the image. “Huh I guess our impure hearts did do the job, after all.”

“Shut up,” Donghyuck mumbles, pushing him aside (into the thorns, again) to step inside.

*

They wander through the gardens for a while before they finally find the castle’s entrance. It’s unguarded, which strikes Jeno as odd, even if the thorns outside are a guard enough. Donghyuck finds his way through the castle easy enough. In the end, all castles are the same more or less.

The rumor has it, the princess’ bedroom is located in one of the east towers. There are three in total and, honestly, Jeno would’ve appreciated not having to check each one.

Because, of course, the princess happens to be in the last tower they check.

The room is unlocked. Jeno feels weird about entering some random girl’s bedroom like that but, in the end, they’re here to save the princess.

Donghyuck doesn’t have such qualms. He swings the double doors open and stands in the middle of the room, hands on his hips. The princess’ bed is a four canopy one, bed curtains drawn fully.

“I guess they were really into the whole keep the mystery going until the very end,” he mutters as he circles the bed on the opposite side. “Wanna open them at the same time?”

Jeno doesn’t, to be honest, but the curiosity is eating at him all the same. In the end, he sighs. “Sure.”

Donghyuck counts to three. The grip Jeno has on the bed curtain is probably too strong but he’s nervous, and then Donghyuck says three! and-

Three things happen at once. First, there’s Donghyuck’s shout of  _ oh my god. _ The second, more pressing thing is that apparently frozen in time didn’t stop the fabric of the curtains from aging because it rips as soon as Jeno and Donghyuck yank it open.

The third, worst thing is this: the impact of the fabric ripping sends both of them flying, right on top of the princess.

Jeno allows himself a moment to feel sorry for himself. Donghyuck is used to those and it’s not like the princess will wake up to judge them.

Except she does?

The body between them jolts up, jostling them away. Jeno will deny the sound that comes out of his mouth to his dying breath.

“You’re not a princess,” Donghyuck says on the other side of the bed, breathless. It’s good to know Jeno isn’t the only one affected.

The princess... Prince? That’s definitely a boy sitting up between them. He has thin lips and bright eyes, hair flopping on his face in an adorable, just-woke-up way. Then again, he did just wake up.

Oh.

He looks at Jeno, then at Donghyuck, then frowns. “I can put a dress on if it’ll make you feel better?”

“I, uh, don’t think this would be necessary,” Jeno hurries to reply. The image is causing his heart to do things. Nerves. Probably.

The boy ruffles his hair, which only serves to make him cuter. Somehow. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Ten years,” Donghyuck says. 

He’s about to say more, but the boy, the prince, Jeno corrects himself, interrupts. “Oh good, I thought it would be like a hundred years or something. My name is Jaemin, in case you didn’t know,” he says, offhand. “So which one of you kissed me?”

Jeno and Donghyuck look at each other, then at the prince - Jaemin. Jaemin rolls his eyes. “I distinctly remember an annoyed fairy godmother telling me I’ll only be woken up by a kiss from someone with a pure heart or whatever. And I’ll have to marry that someone. So who was it?”

Donghyuck rubs his temples. “I’m not actually sure. We both fell on you. Does it matter?”

“Does it matter!” Jaemin exclaims, offended. Absently, Jeno thinks it might be a good idea to ask for a name. “Does it matter,” he mutters again throwing the covers off himself. “Not paying attention to the details is how I got myself into this mess in the first place. There’s no other way,” the prince sighs. “I’m marrying both of you.”

Jeno imagines his expression is similar to Donghyuck’s: horror.

“You’re not marrying both of us.” Donghyuck states. It’s his royal voice, too, the one that Jeno knows for a fact haunts the nightmares of half of the guards.

Jaemin shivers, almost imperceptible. He doesn’t look any less determined, though. “Look, you came here knowing one of you will have to marry me. I’m sure this, at least, my dad hasn’t failed to omit.” And just like that, all the bravado evaporates, leaving only desperation in its place. “Please? It has been ten years, you said so yourself. I’ve been away from my family for so long, who knows if they even remember me anymore?” His voice gets gradually quieter and if they were anywhere else in the room, Jeno is sure Jaemin’s next words would’ve been impossible to be heard. “I really don’t want the curse to return.”

Jaemin is right. Donghyuck came here expecting to come out soon to be married. It’s just Jeno that didn’t. He can see it in Donghyuck’s eyes, too - the worried glances he keeps giving him. Him and Jaemin, actually. Jeno’s heart does a funny little flip at the realization.

Ah well. He always had a thing for damsels in distress. It’s just his luck that all the damsels in his life are boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^me trying to keep it under 1k  
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)


	3. blessing & curse (renjun/hyuck)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 9 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “There is a certain taste to it.”  
[00fftober day three thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1179410910701658115), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day3](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY3?src=hashtag_click&f=live)
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

Renjun regrets agreeing to be Donghyuck’s roommate with every fibre of his being. Sure, it was the sensible decision at the time. Renjun’s bank account is not completely empty even though he has the pleasure of spending his last year of university off campus. It’s good.

Except for the part where it’s making him go insane one carefully timed look at a time.

They’ve been living together for two months now and of those, it had taken Donghyuck approximately two weeks to notice some things. Like the way Renjun’s eyes linger on his bare legs when he gets out of the shower or how his eyes will drop to Donghyuck’s lips every so often. It’s something Renjun has been trying (and mostly failing) at controlling ever since he met Donghyuck in their freshman year, all adorable until he opened his mouth. Then,  _ then  _ Renjun found himself challenged. Intrigued. Finally, someone that didn’t yield at one snarky remark and no matter how hard Renjun pushed, Donghyuck pushed back just as hard.

And this is probably where the story begins. Renjun met Lee Donghyuck four years ago, developed some sort of a hate-boner for him. Somewhere along the lines they became friends and with time, the hate-boner grew into something else that Renjun has yet to admit to.

Until the whole roommate thing, of course. Donghyuck’s supposed roommate bailed on him last minute and Renjun was desperate to escape the sound of his nextdoor neighbour banging a different person every night. It was a great idea, until it wasn’t.

Because here’s the thing: having Lee Donghyuck as a roommate is exciting in a way Renjun will never admit to because he’s not twelve. And also: having Lee Donghyuck your roommate kind of feels like walking on burning coal.

Case in point: Donghyuck, in their living room, grinning. In a skirt.

Renjun has the distinct desire to walk right back out. The front door clicks shut behind him and he hurries to lock it. It takes Donghyuck snickering behind him to remember the door locks automatically.

“What the hell are you wearing?” He asks when he eventually turns around. Renjun has the resting bitch face down to an art form at this point and he knows he looks as unimpressed as ever. Somehow, Donghyuck’s eyes tell him he sees straight through the façade.

“Jaemin got it as a gag gift,” Donghyuck replies cheerily, twirling around. “It has a certain taste to it, don’t you think?”

The skirt is a pleated black one, coming up just above his knees and it lifts up with the twirl. The boxer shorts underneath kind of ruin the magic, which is enough to make Renjun snap out of it. Thank god.

“Yeah,” he retorts, “of regret.”

“You think I’m cute,” Donghyuck says, matter-of-fact. “Admit it.”

Renjun gives him his best death glare, honed over weeks of torture. “Over my dead body.”

In the blink of an eye Donghyuck has invaded Renjun’s bubble of personal space, so close Renjun can feel his exhales. “You can deny it all you want, Renjunnie. I know the truth.”

He’s away and disappearing down the hall, to his own room before Renjun can gather his wits enough to form a reply.

Later, when Donghyuck is in his pyjamas and cuddled next to him, with the drama they’ve been following playing on TV, Renjun will be content enough to admit living with Donghyuck can be a lot of fun. That it was, indeed, the right decision.

Right now, though? He regrets all his life choices.


	4. constellations (jaemin/jisung)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 5 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “I might just kiss you."  
[00fftober day four thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1179773097576153090), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day4](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY4?src=hashtag_click&f=live)  
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

Sure, Jisung remembers Jaemin. It’s hard not to - everyone does, it’s the side effects of being popular but also nice. And what’s more important for the average high schooler, hot. Jisung doubts there’s anyone who went to their school that doesn’t remember Na Jaemin.

They were in the same (and only) dance club for a few months too, before Jaemin dropped out in favor of extra studying so he can get into a better university. At least that’s what he said. There were rumors about the real reasons for Jaemin leaving but those were only that - rumors. And Jaemin did get into the university in the end.

So, of course Jisung remembers Na Jaemin.

What doesn’t make sense is why Jaemin remembers  _ him. _

What makes even less sense is how Jisung ended up like this: sprawled out on someone’s roof at 2AM, staring at the sky where the stars would be if they weren’t in the city. Na Jaemin sprawled out right next to him.

It’s Jisung’s second party since he started university, courtesy of his roommate. Party is a weird way to put it, too. It’s nothing like the big houses full of people and music and alcohol. There is alcohol, though. It’s how they got here in the first place.

“You know,” Jaemin says, voice quiet and a little rough. Jisung’s not sure what he had to drink exactly but he really wishes he’d taken a bottle of water with him. “I always liked your eyes. They’re like stars, so pretty.”

Jisung ignores the way his heartbeat seems to pick up. “We’ve been friends for two weeks tops,” he points out.

Jaemin huffs. “You were so cute in high school, what happened? Were you this stubborn back then, too?”

“I grew up.” Jisung states, even though all his friends will agree that he was, indeed, this stubborn back then, too. This doesn’t seem like the time to point out his imperfections.

“That you did,” comes the reply. There’s a sigh, then Jaemin is speaking again. “I really wish we could see the stars here. I like to pretend I can see constellations.”

“I’m pretty sure you can actually see them,” Jisung says, even if he’s not all that sure. He’s a dance major, astronomy isn’t exactly something he’s confident in. He regrets the words when Jaemin rolls his eyes. He doesn’t look mad per se but now more than ever Jisung wishes his deflaut reaction to nervousness wasn’t sass. Jaemin is older, Jaemin is cute and-

He rolls over and Jisung can no longer see the full moon, blocked out by Jaemin’s broad shoulders. And his face. Jaemin’s eyes seem to be burning holes in his face. Jisung wonders if the butterflies everyone speak of should feel this violent. Jaemin smiles. “I can see constellations just fine right now.” 

Cheesy. Na Jaemin is so goddamn  _ cheesy. _

He’s close enough that Jisung can feel his breath on his skin. Can smell the soju on it, too.

“You’re so drunk,” he huffs, pushing Jaemin off. It’s a little harder than expected, equal parts because Jaemin isn’t as fragile as he looks and because… well. Jisung doesn’t really want to push him off.

“Not that drunk,” Jaemin counters. He sits up, just to bend right back over Jisung. There’s a bit more space between them this time, Jisung can’t help but notice. Jaemin reaches to brush a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. “I might just kiss you.”

Jisung blinks. He’s positive his cheeks are flaming, even in the darkness.

He pushes Jaemin off again, harder this time. Jaemin doesn’t lean again this time and Jisung doesn’t have it in him to look him in the eye.

They stay like that for a while. It’s quiet, save for the occasional car passing by below them, in the real world. “You can,” Jisung mutters eventually. There’s a sharp intake of breath to his right but still, he stares at the starless sky above them. “I’d like it if you were sober for it, though.”

There’s more silence, then Jaemin is laughing, low and breathy at first then brighter, louder.

“I’m such an idiot,” he says, still laughing. He leans on Jisung’s shoulder, shaking both of them with his giggles. As he quiets down, a hand wraps around Jisung’s waist. “Don’t forget about this, okay? I’ll be sober tomorrow.”

“You’re the drunk one, remember?” Jisung huffs. The butterflies are somewhat calmer now and it’s almost scary, how his nerves melt away like this. He threads his fingers through Jaemin’s hair and Jaemin blinks up, no longer laughing. The smile that replaced that is harder to deal with, somehow.

Like this, Jisung thinks he can finally see Jaemin’s stupid, cheesy constellations.


	5. dimension (renjun/jeno)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 31 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “Scared, me?”  
[00fftober day five thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1180135486335139843), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day5](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY5?src=hashtag_click&f=live)  
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

Okay, look. Jeno will be the first to admit he’s into superheroes as much as the next guy. Origin stories sound great, even if slightly worn out at this point. Spiders? Lighting? Experiments? 

A lightning striking a tree, snapping a branch off in the process, which ends up hitting you in the head? A little far-fetched, if you ask Jeno. The ugly lump of a bruise on his head begs to differ. He can’t wait for it to go down, honestly. It’s making his hair stick up in weird places and no matter how he styles it, his head looks like a traffic cone with a wig. It’s terrible.

That’s not even the worst part.

The worst part is this: Jeno wasn’t alone. The damn branch hit Renjun too but somehow, Renjun is pulling it off swimmingly in every way possible. His hair? Flawless. His weird new dimension hopping powers? Better than Jeno’s, that’s for sure.

But let’s get back to the beginning.

*

The first time Jeno sneezed after the incident, he opened his eyes to a world with huge white hills, topped off with a kettle each. He barely managed a glimpse before he was back in his own bed, in his own room.

He wrote it off as a fever dream even though he was perfectly healthy and that was that.

The second time happened when Renjun was dragging him towards the library to work on a project with a rapidly approaching deadline. Jeno sneezed and boom - a new world. Suddenly the grey sidewalk melted into grass and they were in some sort of a field. Wheat, maybe? 

Renjun looked surprised for about half a second which Jeno would’ve found weird if he wasn’t too busy panicking.

Blink. Sidewalk again.

Jeno’s panic quickly transitioned from  _ Oh my god where am I? _ to  _ Oh my god am I going insane??? _ So quickly, in fact, that he didn’t even notice Renjun was no longer dragging him to the library.

Truth to be told, he only noticed when Renjun slammed the door to his dorm room shut behind them.

*

It was a weird talk. Apparently Renjun spent quite some time trying to figure out his powers, eventually did figure them out and was now able to jump worlds (alternative universes? dimensions?) at will. Jeno… mostly tried not to sneeze.

In all fairness he did try. Is trying still, except his each time he feels the pull of a different world nearby and tries to tug at it, bring it over, it falls away like sand between his fingers.

Which brings them to this moment.

“Come on, you big baby,” Renjun huffs. “We already figured out I can jump between dimensions at will and as long as we’re touching somehow, we can carry each other over.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jeno mumbles, probably for the fifth time. What if something happens and he can’t find his way home and-

Renjun rolls his eyes. “Literally all you have to do is not let go of my hand. You keep finding excuses to hold hands anyway. It’s a two birds-one stone situation, really.”

Jeno allows himself a moment for some damage control. He just knows his face is on fire. Renjun raises an eyebrow. 

“Look,” Jeno sputters, going for any and every excuse not to make eye contact. “It’s just… dangerous, okay? What if we’re separated, what if we get lost? Dimension hopping is dangerous!”

Jeno isn’t looking at Renjun which is how he misses Renjun suddenly being very, very close. “Are you scared, Lee Jeno?”

“Scared, me?” Jeno squeaks. He attempts to move back as subtly as he can, he can feel Renjun’s breath on his  _ cheek.  _ And then, to make the disaster complete, his pride kicks in. “I’m not scared,” Jeno says with confidence he doesn’t feel. “Let’s do this.”

He’s going to regret this. He will, he  _ knows. _ Except Renjun looks ridiculously gleeful and he still hasn’t moved away fully and Jeno, well.

Jeno is weak.


	6. talisman (jaemin/jeno)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 13 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “I never knew it could be this way.”  
[00fftober day six thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1180497874674737152), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day6](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY6?src=hashtag_click&f=live)

_ "The green crystal will guide you to your true love one day." _

_ Jaemin blinks at the crystal in his mom’s hands. It’s blue, so his grandma’s words don’t quite add up but grown ups often say things he doesn’t understand. His mom is smiling, hand clasped in his dad’s as she unclasps the thin silver necklace from her own neck, puts the crystal on it and secures it around Jaemin’s. _

*

At twenty, Jaemin doesn’t understand the stupid crystal more than he did when he was five. It’s still blue and his grandma’s words don’t make a lot more sense even if the whole world insists he’s an adult now. Occasionally, he’ll think about taking it off, right before his mom’s face materializes behind his eyelids. Taking it off for real feels a lot like betrayal.

He twirls the crystal sometimes, thinking about his grandma’s words. True love. It doesn’t feel real, even if his parents keep telling him he has his whole life in front of him. Jaemin knows, objectively, that high school wasn’t that bad to him. He’s friendly and good looking and people often felt drawn to him. He had his fair share of relationships, even if a lot of the people he dated liked the Jaemin that the high school rumor mill made up rather than… Jaemin himself.

“You’re so dramatic,” Donghyuck often tells him, even now. Even if being dramatic is what they bonded over in the first place.

But it’s fine. Jaemin still has his whole life in front of him. High school is over now and he has a whole world of people yet to meet. He tucks the blue crystal back into the collar of his shirt and puts a smile on when a new customer comes in. His rent won’t pay itself.

*

At ten, Jaemin had taken off the necklace, left it in his gym locker. Some boys in his gym class made fun of him, you see. Boys shouldn’t wear girl necklaces, they said. Jaemin wanted to argue because he was a boy and he did wear a necklace. Still, each time the tiny blue crystal glinted in the bad lighting of the locker room, someone would laugh or point at him and laugh and Jaemin just wanted friends. And of course, because there are a lot of things on your mind when you’re ten, Jaemin forgot to get his necklace back. 

He did not get yelled at. He thinks it would’ve been easier if they yelled, except his parents were sad and his mom was never good at hiding her tears. Jaemin snuck into the gym lockers first thing the next day, put his necklace back on and learned to hide it better.

*

There has been a boy coming to the coffee shop every other day. Jaemin is usually the one on shift when he does and after a few weeks, it starts to feel like a routine.

His name is Jeno and likes hot chocolate, sometimes tea. Honestly, Jaemin isn’t sure why Jeno is so set on this particular coffee shop. Their non-coffee selection sucks and Jeno seems to be dead set on never ordering actual caffeine.

A month in, Jaemin’s coworkers start calling Jeno  _ your boy. _

“Are you blind,” barista number two (Yangyang when Jaemin is not annoyed at him) rolls his eyes. “He rarely ever shows up when you’re not working and he always looks disappointed when he does.”

“Are we talking about Jaemin’s boy?” Donghyuck asks, walking in with a tray of cookies. He piles them neatly on their, frankly, rather lacking pastry display. “Seriously, he looks like a kicked puppy when you’re not here. It’s kind of sad.”

Jaemin chooses to smile at the new customer that just walked in instead of replying. He doesn’t know what he’d say anyway.

Maybe it’s his imagination, but the necklace around his neck feels a bit warmer.

*

Jaemin has been through this already. A lot of times, in fact. None of his previous suitors have spent as long stalling as Jeno has but by month two, Jaemin is ready to accept that it’s attraction that keeps Jeno coming back to the coffee shop.

He hasn’t had a lot of relationships since high school but he’s had a fair bit of dates, some random hookups. In the rare moments when Jaemin is honest with himself, he thinks he’d like it if it worked out with Jeno, for real this time. But his dating history has a trend of being less than stellar, and when Jeno finally gathers the courage to ask him out, a part of Jaemin mourns the loss of the  _ maybes  _ and _ what-ifs. _

He only notices later that night, when he’s alone and replaying Jeno’s nervous confession for the millionth time: the crystal looks more turquoise than blue now.

*

With Jaemin’s previous relationships, by the second week it becomes pretty clear what his partners want from him.

They’ll be celebrating a full month together soon, and despite being disastrously shy, Jeno still acts like Jaemin hung the stars in the sky. Donghyuck’s words.

It doesn’t even matter that they’ve only kissed twice.

*

On their hundredth day together, Jaemin comes to work to a giant bouquet of roses waiting for him on the counter. Jeno is nowhere to be seen but Jaemin has known him long enough now. Jeno is here, somewhere. And sure, when Jaemin bypasses the roses to head for the back room, there’s a loud thump! and Jeno rubbing the back of his head when Jaemin opens the door fully.

He looks sheepish, a little worried, but those little facts barely register in Jaemin’s brain before he wraps his hands around Jeno’s neck and kisses him until they both run out of breath.

*

“You know,” Jaemin says that night, snuggled into Jeno on his bed despite it being a little too hot for it. “I never knew it could be this way.”

“You mean to tell me no one has been in love with you before?” Jeno says, voice full of disbelief. His words seem to catch up with him, and he freezes. “Uh...”

Jaemin throws a leg over Jeno’s hips when he attempts to move away, rolling them over in the process. He stares down at Jeno, marvelling how he manages to avoid eye contact even when they’re this close.

“I don’t think anyone has been,” Jaemin murmurs and Jeno’s eyes snap up for a split second, before he’s looking away again. Jaemin cups his cheeks. “I think I am in love, though. Right now.”

In contrast to five seconds away, Jeno seems unable to look away this time. 

*

Later, when Jeno has long since fallen asleep, Jaemin lies awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling. The necklace is definitely warm to the touch now, not enough to be uncomfortable but enough for Jaemin to feel it. At two in the morning, he finally gives up and sneaks out of Jeno’s embrace and into the bathroom.

The light in the bathroom is a bit blinding but as soon as Jaemin’s eyes adjust, it’s impossible to miss: the crystal around his neck is a bright, bright green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^me trying to keep it under 1k, part 2. honestly, fuk u nomin  
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)


	7. enchanted (jaemin/mark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to date a witch: a guide by Mark Lee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 21 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “Change is annoyingly difficult.  
[00fftober day seven thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1180860264788267009), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day7](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY7?src=hashtag_click&f=live)  
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

  1. _Question your life choices._

“Are you sure you didn’t put some sort of spell on me,” Mark asks skeptically. It’s the only reason he can think of that he’d leave his nice, comfortable job in the city and move into a cottage in the woods. He has to drive close to an hour to get to the city now and the mosquitoes are horrible.

Jaemin rolls his eyes, like he does every time Mark asks this. “Love spells don’t actually exist. At least not long-term ones.”

Granted, it had taken Jaemin over two years of dating before he told Mark about the whole witchy thing and another year before he asked him to move in (into the  _ woods) _ but. It doesn’t hurt to double check.

Jaemin scoots over on the couch and makes grabby hands at Mark. “If you’re done having a crisis I’d like cuddles, please.”

Mark, too, rolls his eyes. (But gives in soon enough. He always does.)

  1. _ Seriously, what the hell were you thinking?_

“Jaemin.” Mark says evenly. His pancakes are glowing. Mark may not be the best cook but even he knows pancakes are not supposed to _ glow. _

“You’re so boring,” Jaemin grumbles, swapping the plate of pancakes with regular, non-glowing ones. The new plate clatters on the table.

Mark knows Jaemin isn’t serious. They’ve had this exact conversation hundreds of times and yet, for a second, the doubt crawling up his spine is enough to knock the breath out of him.

And then, like all the times before, Jaemin’s hands snake around his shoulders. “Dumbass. I love you even with your boring taste in pancakes.” 

Just like that, it’s easier to breathe again and Mark leans back, melting into Jaemin’s arms. 

  1. _ Make sure they don’t accidentally maim themselves (or you)._

For a self-proclaimed modern witch, Jaemin can be quite awkward with modern kitchen appliances.

Mark wanders into the kitchen on a sunny Saturday morning. It’s too early to be awake on a weekend, the sun barely peeking out the horizon but having to get up early all the other days of the week takes its toll. He blinks blearily at Jaemin putting a bowl of eggs in the microwave.

There’s something wrong in this picture, Mark can feel it, except his brain has yet to wake up properly. 

Jaemin turns to greet him, his smile a worthy rival to the rising sun, when-

The microwave gives a warning grumble.

“Oh my god, Jaemin,” Mark yelps. His brain is definitely awake now, working overtime. There’s no time for anything so he just throws himself over Jaemin, bringing both of them down.

Right before the eggs explode. The force of the blow throws the old microwave’s door open, half cooked eggs spilling everywhere. Some of the mess lands on Mark’s leg and he does his best not to hiss out loud.

He fails.

“Oh no, no no no,” Jaemin mumbles, turning them over, attention focused on Mark’s leg in a heartbeat. He runs his fingers through the burn, the familiar jolt of his magic soothing over the pain. His fingers flutter over Mark’s skin for a moment longer. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Now that he’s no longer in pain, Mark sits up on his own, taking Jaemin’s hand in his own. “It’s fine. It happens,” he kisses each of Jaemin’s knuckles to prove his point. It has the expected result: Jaemin giggles, pulling his hand away (but not before Mark is done with the kisses).

“I just… Change is annoyingly difficult,” he sighs waving a hand in the air. It seems like an unconscious gesture, but soon enough the mess from the eggs starts cleaning itself. Jaemin sighs again. “I keep forgetting if I have to keep eggs or iron out of this thing.”

Mark squeezes his eyes shut, takes a deep breath. “Uh. Both?”

“Oh.”

  1. _ Coffee. Lots of coffee._

Unlike the microwave, Jaemin has the coffee machine fully figured out within days of Mark bringing it home. A week or so more and Jaemin has run out of coffee, too.

“Please,” he begs as Mark ties his shoes. “Please get me more when you go to the city? Baby, please?”

The sad part about it all is that Jaemin knows exactly what it does to Mark when he uses endearments. Which means they’re mostly used for two things: intimacy and begging.

Right now, Jaemin is sporting the puppy eyes to end all puppies.

“Look, you’ve been going a bit overboard with the coffee,” Mark tries, hesitant. He does his best to avoid the force of the puppy eyes.

“Please,” Jaemin begs again, draping himself over Mark’s back. “I’m a witch, remember? Coffee doesn’t affect me the same way it does normal humans, I promise. Please?”

Mark doesn’t entirely believe him but he also doesn’t know enough about witch anatomy to refute this. 

“Fine,” he relents in the end. 

Jaemin lets go immediately, jumping in excitement. “The large bag, okay? I need it to last me until your next trip into the city. I don’t like going alone.”

Mark just sighs.

  1. _ Provide cuddles. Witches seem to be surprisingly touchy and get cold easily._

“Maaaaark,” Jaemin whines as soon as Mark opens the front door. “I missed you, come cuddle me.”

Mark allows himself a moment to just enjoy the sight. It’s been kind of cold the last few days, winter making itself known already. Jaemin is curled up on the couch, bundled up in Mark’s favorite blanket. It’s adorable. All Mark wants is to drop everything and curl next to him. Jaemin is pouting, too, which makes everything worse. 

“Let me just put the groceries away, yeah?” Mark says, toeing his shoes off. He makes sure to drop a kiss on the top of Jaemin’s hair before he goes into the kitchen. 

If he’s in more of a hurry than usual, well. No one is there to call him out on it.


	8. home (donghyuck/taeil)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ace boyfriends hyuckil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you will pry this au out of my cold dead hands.  
\+ day 18 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “Secrets? I love secrets.”  
[00fftober day eight thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1181222651471237120), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day8](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY8?src=hashtag_click&f=live)  
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

Donghyuck hurries up the stairs, not even bothering with their rusty old elevator. His favorite drama is about to begin but work ran late and Taeil is currently live-texting him each ad they play. They have more or less the same ones each time. First it’s the laundry detergent, then food. Then begin the movie trailers and very soon, the gorgeous intro song will start playing and Donghyuck is this close to tears of frustration.

He flies through the door just as the last candy ad finishes, ditches his shoes along with his bag by the door and crashes right onto Taeil on the couch.

“Mercy for my old bones,” Taeil huffs, even if he scoots over to make space.

Donghyuck pats his cheek, eyes trained on the TV. “You’ll live. I’m so glad I managed to get home in time.”

Taeil’s hand snakes over his waist, pulling him closer, away from the edge of the couch. It’s a small space but they’ve long since learned the best ways to cuddle with minimal risk of falling off. Donghyuck relaxes into Taeil’s arms, just as the drama’s intro song starts playing.

*

It wasn’t like this at first. It wasn’t like this for a long time, in fact. 

Donghyuck spent most of his teenage years trying to convince himself he was attracted to other people the way his classmates were. There was even the Jaemin Incident, as he’s come to call it now. Donghyuck, drunk and desperate to be intimate the way everyone is, hating it from the second Jaemin splayed his fingers under his shirt. 

Donghyuck, drunk and crying, hiding on someone’s balcony.

He doesn’t remember when or how he ended up telling the random stranger who happened to be there everything. He still feels the phantom touch of arms circling his shoulders, though. A hand petting his hair and telling him  _ It’s okay, you’re okay. You’re perfect. _

It had been Taeil then, but that Donghyuck learned quite a bit later. Friend of a friend of a friend, does it really matter? He was there and he said words that stayed even through the haze of the alcohol. Words that helped Donghyuck kickstart his own life. 

*

“She should totally drop him,” Taeil says. His voice is muffled by Donghyuck’s hair and, honestly, Donghyuck has no idea how he can even breath.

He does agree, though. “He’s such an asshole,” he grumbles. “I don’t understand straight people.”

“Love,” Taeil sighs, all dreamy. His pulls Donghyuck closer, again. “It makes you blind and stupid.”

“We’re in love,” Donghyuck points out. “And I like to think neither of us is blind or stupid.”

Taeil’s chest rumbles with laughter. “Mm, yeah. But we’re special, aren’t we?”

Donghyuck pats the hand around his waist, doesn’t even try to hide his smile. It’s not like Taeil can see him anyway. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

*

They met in a bar, the second time. 

Taeil was being hit on, looking rather uncomfortable and Donghyuck swooped in like a knight in shining armour and skinny jeans (Taeil’s words). Donghyuck called him a taxi, then called one for himself and that was that.

Until he woke up at 6AM the next day, drenched in sweat and  _ It’s okay, you’re okay. You’re perfect.  _ playing on loop in his mind, this time with the unmistakable tone of Taeil’s voice.

*.

They met, again, when Donghyuck was picking up his second cup of coffee for the day, finally finding the time to check out the new coffee shop next to his studio. Lo and behold, Taeil stood behind the counter, bright customer-smile on his face gradually melting in confusion, surprise, then a smaller, real one. 

The rest, as they say, was history.

*

It’s Donghyuck’s turn to make breakfast and he sneaks out of the room, hoping he’s the only one awake this time. Taeil has this awful habit of waking up before him, effectively ruining any surprise Donghyuck might try to whip up for him.

Taeil wasn’t feeling very physical the night before and he’s sleeping in his own room right now, so at least Donghyuck has that going in his favor. Trying to sneak out with Moon Taeil in bed next to you is damn near impossible.

Of course, when Donghyuck finally reaches the kitchen Taeil is already there, pouring himself tea.

“Why are you awake?” he asks instead of a hello, to which Taeil only laughs.

“Hello to you too.” He makes grabby hands at Donghyuck and really, can anyone resist that? 

It’s something Donghyuck learned a few weeks into moving in together: there are very little things Taeil loves more than hugs right after he’s woken up. Donghyuck’s only happy to provide.

“You could’ve allowed me to surprise you once,” he grumbles anyway, even with his face mushed into Taeil’s neck.

“Do you want to know a secret?” Taeil whispers conspiratorially, his fingers tracing circles in the fabric of Donghyuck’s pyjamas.

That makes him perk up. “Secrets? I love secrets.”

“I could let you surprise me,” Taeil says slowly, trying and failing to suppress a grin. “But then I wouldn’t get to see you cook and I love seeing you cook.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes but allows himself to stay like this a moment longer. And then, because he’s him, pushes off with a huff and gets to cooking with all the focus he’s capable of at 8AM, much to Taeil’s amusement.


	9. storm (jeno/donghyuck)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 17 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “There is just something about them/her/him.”  
[00fftober day nine thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1181585260024233984), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day9](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY9?src=hashtag_click&f=live)  
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

“Do you think Renjun will actually show up?” Jeno asks, watching the clouds gather outside. 

The door to the backyard is still open and Jeno can't stop staring. The air outside seems crystal clear, the sun shining through even though the clouds make it seem almost as if twilight instead. It’s fascinating, Jeno thinks, the world outside right before a storm.

Donghyuck huffs, closing the door with a little more force than necessary. It’s probably the smart decision, given that the wind is starting to pick up.

“Renjun, Renjun, Renjun,” Donghyuck says in a poor imitation of Jeno’s voice. “What’s so great about him?”

_ He reminds me of you, _ Jeno’s brain supplies unhelpfully. “There is just something about him,” he says out loud. 

Donghyuck frowns. He double checks that the door is shut, then the windows. The first raindrops hit the glass not long after. 

Jeno listens as the rain goes from light drizzle to violent drumming against the house in a heartbeat. It’s hard not to glue himself to the window - the crystal clear air is nearly gone but the heavy rain is just as fascinating. 

When he finally turns back, Donghyuck is watching him with a hint of fondness that’s gone as soon as he finds Jeno looking back. Jeno stares for a second too long. “Do you wanna go watch a movie? I’ll make hot cocoa, it’s getting chilly here.”

“I’m not your personal space heater,” Donghyuck grumbles but he  _ is  _ taking out mugs, swatting Jeno’s hands away when he tries to reach for the instant cocoa. “Go pick a movie and find blankets, I’ll be out with the cocoa in a moment.”

Jeno shrugs. He always makes the cocoa too sweet anyway.

Renjun’s text comes just as Jeno is trying to disentangle himself from a pile of blankets he accidentally overturned on himself. He emerges from the blanket mountain to locate his phone and purses his lips when he reads the message. He did expect it. Knowing it’ll happen doesn’t quell the disappointment unfurling in his stomach but the small, logical part of him knew this was coming. The storm is only getting worse and at this rate, even Donghyuck is probably going to just spend the night. He hasn’t told his mom yet but Jeno’s parents are always open to sleepovers and they’ve done this a thousand times already. Perks of being friends since forever. It gets a little complicated if you’re in love with said friend but it’s okay, Jeno’s working on that.

“Hey,” Donghyuck pokes his head through the doorway. “You need help with those?”

Jeno looks down at the tangle of blankets at his feet. “Yeah, probably. Renjun’s not coming.”

Donghyuck freezes for a split second, hand gripping the end of a tacky leopard print blanket. “I mean,” he says, voice nearly drowned out by the thunder outside, “I guess it was to be expected. The storm is pretty bad. Sorry,” he adds.

“It’s fine,” Jeno shrugs. He gives up on untangling the mess and just picks up the entire pile, to Donghyuck’s utter disapproval. “We’ll hang out another time.”

“Yeah, hopefully without me thirdwheeling,” Donghyuck snorts but somehow, it lacks real amusement.

Jeno isn’t sure how to respond to that, so he doesn’t. The cocoa is probably getting cold anyway.

*

Way, way later that night, Jeno’s parents have long since come home and gone to bed. The storm has calmed down to a drizzle and they’ve been awake for so long it feels like Jeno hasn’t slept for weeks. It’s dark and the faint raindrops on the windows feel like a secret spell. Jeno feels weightless, like the whole world is at the tip of his fingertips. He runs his fingers through Donghyuck’s hair.

“You know,” Jeno murmurs, “you were never a third wheel.”

Donghyuck mumbles something, then snuggles closer. His breathing is even against Jeno’s collarbones and Jeno allows himself a moment, then another. Then he does his best to rearrange them on the couch, as gentle as possible. It’s a tight fit but soon enough, they’re properly lying, Donghyuck more or less on top but this time, with the ugly blanket between them.


	10. reincarnation (jisung/chenle)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 2 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “Just follow me, I know the area.”  
00fftober day [ten](https://media1.tenor.com/images/6c760b43f16de1d8ce9f88b2e81a7eb8/tenor.gif) [thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1181947426682355713), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day10](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY10?src=hashtag_click&f=live)  
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

They get off the train on a stop Jisung is unfamiliar with. It’s about as good as an opportunity as any to ask if Chenle is _ really _sure he knows he’s going.

Chenle rolls his eyes before Jisung can even open his mouth. “Just follow me, I know the area.”

Jisung is skeptical, honestly. This is the third rundown building they’ve passed and the streets are getting narrower with each turn they take. It feels like the whole world is shrinking, not just the old buildings surrounding them.

Chenle leads him across a small bridge and into the most narrow street yet. At the end, there’s an unmarked door. It’s small and a dirty brownish color which Jisun suspects has been yellow once. 

Jisung stares at the door as Chenle opens it, then motions for him to go in. He doesn’t move to follow, though.

“You first?” Jisung tries, even if he knows it’s useless. Chenle has The Look. Whatever protest Jisung has, it’ll fall on deaf ears.

“The ad said Madame Ara only accepts one person at a time,” he says, tapping his foot. “Apparently she also doesn’t particularly enjoy being kept waiting and you have exactly three minutes before your appointment.”

With that, Jisung is shoved past the door, which clicks shut behind him. He takes a deep breath. If he walks out that door he’ll never hear the end of it.

*

It’s not that bad, all things considered. The hallway is dimly lit but enough to see where you’re going with no trouble. There are candles scattered here and there, taking the attention away from the artificial lighting lining the walls. The smell is strong, though. It’s not bad per se, just… intense. Jisung highly doubts he’s ever been in a place this saturated with herbal scents.

The hallway turns out rather short, ending in yet another unmarked door. At least this one looks new, polished wood glinting in the low light.

Jisung takes a deep breath and considers his choices one last time. He could go right back out. He could probably even bullshit Chenle into thinking he did meet this madame Ara somehow. 

Who’s he trying to fool, really? Chenle would know right away and would make his life hell or make him go right back in. Neither option sounds particularly appealing. And he’d fail at proving what he’s here to prove, really: that fortune telling is a big ol’ hoax and magical powers don’t exist outside of childrens’ books.

(And the other reason his brain won’t stop screaming at him about: if he walks out, Chenle will be disappointed. For some reason, each time Zhong Chenle is anything but happy, smiling, content something ugly, violent twists in Jisung’s gut. He fights to get that smile back even if it’s at his own expense.) 

So Jisung steels himself, then knocks on the fancy door.

*

He’s not really sure what he expected of madame Ara but this is definitely not it.

The room is as dim as the hallway but the furniture littered is strikingly normal. There’s an ugly, flower coach.

The person that opens the door is a boy, dressed in a long, colorful tunic and a pair of pants Jising swears he’s seen his grandmother wear. It’s a strange sight, considering the boy can’t be much older than Jisung himself, if he’s older at all.

Jisung glances at his brand new jeans, bought from the mall the day before. When he looks back up, the boy is staring at him expectantly.

“Uh,” Jisung mumbles eventually. “Do you happen to be madame Ara?”

The boy rolls his eyes. “I’m her son. Madame Ara had some urgent business to attend to and I’m filling in for her. You can call me...” He pauses, considering. “You can call me Haechan, I suppose.”

“Okay.” Jisung nods. They stare at each other for a few long, awkward seconds. “Listen,” he says eventually. “I’ll be honest. My friend more or less forced me to come here because he knows I don’t believe in this stuff. Now that I can say we’ve met without lying, I’ll be going.”

Haechan blinks at him a couple of times, too stunned to reply. Jisung’s hand is already at the door knob when Haechan finally replies. “What if I convinced you it’s real?”

His voice is confident, a smirk present too when Jisung turns to look at him. Yet still, there’s a bit of hesitance in his features. “No offence to you or your mom,” Jisung starts. He finds it hard to make eye contact, for some reason. “I don’t think this will be possible.”

“What if,” Haechan says, all traces of hesitance gone now. He gets closer and Jisung takes a step back on instinct. “What if I showed you all the lives you’ve lived so far?”

*

_ Curiosity killed the cat. _

They learned this phrase in English sometime in elementary school and for reasons Jisung can’t quite explain, it stuck with him through high school, too. He can’t stop thinking about it now, when Haechan is tracing his closed eyelids with some sort of herbal pomade he made just now. Something in it smells so strong Jisung wonders what would happen if he just choked to death, here in this dim room, with a complete stranger.

Haechan is chanting something under his breath and right before Jisung drifts off, Chenle’s face flashes behind his eyelids. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.

*

The faces surrounding Jisung are unfamiliar. He’s immobilised, something thick tied around his wrists, behind his back. It doesn’t feel like rope. He’s kneeling in the dirt, some sort of fabric wrapped loosely around his body. It must have rained recently because there are puddles everywhere. Jisung catches a glimpse of his reflection in one of them and the face looking back is just as unfamiliar as the rest of them.

There’s some commotion, a shout, and a boy breaking through the crowd of people, more shouting. Jisung watches the new person with a detached interest. He’s still shouting, words that don’t make sense in Jisung’s head but he understands, somehow. Things like _ Leave him alone _ and _ He didn’t do anything wrong. _

He doesn’t recognize the face. But just like the boy’s words, Jisung doesn’t have to recognize him to know.

He’s dragged away by an older man soon enough and a torrent of fear swallows Jisung from the inside, right before something drives into his back. The pain almost overpowers the fear. Almost, but not quite.

*

There’s the sound of hooves hitting the ground outside. The room Jisung is in is lit by a flickering candle, which goes out almost as soon as he notices it.

There are hands crawling up his shoulders, his neck, then breath on his lips.

“We shouldn’t,” Jisung hears what’s probably his own voice say. Once again, the words sound foreign and yet he knows what they mean, like he’s said them before.

There’s a breathy laughter, and that Jisung knows as well. He’s heard it so many times before. 

“Oh, but we should.”

*

They’re holding hands. This Chenle looks a bit more like the one Jisung knows and there are more boys surrounding them, and they’re all holding hands. They bow and there’s confetti on their clothes, on the ground. There’s a crowd screaming around them and the world seems tinted green and Jisung feels _ alive. _

*

The images speed up, faster than Jisung can keep track of. There’s a frilly dress somewhere, an angry parent. A lake and Chenle smiling, a rising sun and a warm summer afternoon. A rose, clutched in someone’s paper-white hands, more roses around them. Eventually everything is so fast all Jisung can see are blurred colors.

And then his eyes snap open.

*

It takes a while for his vision to adjust to the dimness of the room, Haechan’s worried expression.

“I can’t believe it actually worked,” he breathes, looking at Jisung like he can’t believe he’s there still.

In any other case Jisung would probably snap, because you shouldn’t perform things you’re unsure of, except his mind is still reeling. “I think,” Jisung starts, then pauses. Each time he blinks, there’s a different version of his life, of Chenle’s life, tangled together in ways he’ll probably never understand. “I think I really need to leave now.”

“Yeah,” Haechan agrees, helping him up. There’s no trace of arrogance in him now. “Could you...” He glances up and Jisung finds it endlessly hilarious how Haechan is the one avoiding eye contact now. “Could you maybe pretend this never happened? And not tell my mom?”

“I don’t know about the pretending part,” Jisung replies honestly. The images are still playing in his mind, like an endless film reel. “But I’m not planning on ever coming back, so I think you’re safe.”

Haechan seems torn between defensive and relieved. “I’m sorry,” he says eventually, opening the door for Jisung to pass through.

“Yeah,” Jisung nods. It doesn’t feel like the appropriate answer but he can’t think of anything that does either.

*

Chenle is waiting for him on the other end of the dim hallway, vibrating with excitement.

“So? Are you a believer now, Park Jisung?”

It takes a moment for Jisung’s eyes to adjust to the daylight. Chenle’s grin is expectant but it dims with each second Jisung delays his answer. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jisung mumbles finally. For a split second he imagines Chenle seeing the things he just saw. “Nah,” he grins, hoping it looks more real than it feels. “Magic doesn’t exist and I’m not sure what you expected out of this visit.”

Chenle doesn’t look very convinced but he doesn’t press further either. “A stubborn dumbass until the very end. I hope a flying broomstick takes you out someday.”

A flash of rose, of paleness, and laughing seems a lot harder suddenly. He loops a hand around Chenle instead, leading them back to the real world. 

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

If his grip is a little harder than normal, Chenle doesn’t seem to notice.

  



	11. sweater (mark/hyuck)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 28 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “Enough! I heard enough.”  
okay i think it's fair to mention that p much all the editing most of these get is gdocs underlining typos. im sorry
> 
> [00fftober day eleven thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1182309814887682048), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day11](https://twitter.com/search?q=%2300FFTOBER_DAY11&src=typed_query&f=live)   
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

When Donghyuck opens the door, he’s dressed in one of those loose sweaters at the bottom his wardrobe. Mark has detailed mental notes of all of them because each and every one has been cause for his inner turmoil at some point. Right now, it’s the cream sweater - one of Mark’s least favorites, honestly. It has a wide collar and it’s thick enough to make sweater paws. It’s also heavy enough to drag down Donghyuck’s shoulders, more often than not leaving his collarbones out in the open. Mark  _ hates it. _

What he hates even more is that right at this moment, Lee Donghyuck doesn’t seem to be wearing pants.

Mark sucks in a breath, trying to mask whatever expression his face is contorting in as plain, dumb confusion. “Aren’t you cold?”

Donghyuck looks down on himself, then back at Mark. “Well, I am now. I wasn’t ten seconds ago, ago, though. Because I was happily talking to Renjun. In bed.” He steps back, gestures for Mark to come in. “Hello to you too, by the way.”

“It’s five in the afternoon,” Mark points out. He ignores the ugly feeling crawling up his throat at the mention of Renjun. His mind races, wondering just what exactly did they talk about. He clears his throat. “It’s your fault you were still in bed. We were gonna watch your new drama, remember? You blackmailed me into watching it with you.”

“I wouldn’t call it blackmail,” Donghyuck shrugs, already headed for his bedroom. “More like assisted persuasion.”

Mark rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother to reply. Donghyuck has already disappeared into the other room anyway. 

*

He emerges back with pyjamas on, sadly. And a sweatshirt. Mark does not mourn the loss of the sweater. Or the introduction of pants. Donghyuck in socially acceptable clothes is definitely better for his sanity. Especially since they’ll be watching TV which will inevitably turn into Donghyuck wrapping around him like an octopus. It’s fine. Mark’s fine.

*

The whole issue is this: Mark knew Donghyuck had a thing for him for months. Donghyuck wasn’t the most subtle person and Mark had a feeling that wasn’t his intention either. Except Donghyuck had no issue with the fact that Mark was a boy and Mark, well… did.

By the time he got over his sexuality crisis and found out (with no small amount of assistance) that being into boys is perfectly fine and being into Lee Donghyuck is even better Huang Renjun was already a thing. 

It’s fine. Mark is fine. Donghyuck probably simmered in the same hell for the longest time, back when Mark was all about friendship. He figures it’s only fair.

*

They’re about three episodes in when Donghyuck all but sprawls over Mark’s lap. Mark has had three hours to find the faults in his stance on how socially acceptable looks on Donghyuck. His sweatshirt is riding up with each shuffle (and there are a lot of shuffles). His pyjamas, on the other hand, seem to have a non-existent elastic band. 

Frankly, Mark has no idea what the names of the characters on screen even are.

He blames his quickly diminishing brain cells for what comes out of his mouth next. 

“Won’t Renjun mind that you’re all over me like this?”

Mark sure would. 

Donghyuck blinks up at him. “Renjun? Why would he mind?”

“Because, uh...” Mark makes a wide gesture. “Because. Aren’t you a thing?”

“Me and Renjun?” Donghyuck repeats, dumbfounded. When the realization settles, he closes his eyes, rubbing at his temples. “Yeah, no. Apparently my type is idiots.”

Mark feels like he should be insulted, maybe, except his heart is too busy trying to beat its way out of his chest.

They stay like that for a while, quiet, until Donghyuck shuffles again, upright this time. 

Mark has two layers of clothing on but he can swear he feels Donghyuck’s breaths right over his heart. He wonders if Donghyuck can hear the way his heartbeat.

“You know,” Donghyuck murmurs, the words hitting Mark’s skin through all two layers. “I saw the way you looked at me earlier. If it doesn’t mean what I think it means, now would be a good time to tell me.”

It probably does. It means all the things, except the words are stuck in Mark’s throat and all he can do is card his fingers through Donghyuck’s hair, hoping he’d understand.

He’s Lee Donghyuck. Of course he understands.

He repositions himself to straddle Mark’s lap, a hand on each of his shoulders.

“You’ll tell me if you wanna stop, right?”

Mark’s mind is still reeling and the words come just as hard. He slowly, hesitantly rests his palms on Donghyuck’s waist. When the only reaction he gets is a quiet sigh, he allows his fingers to dip under the goddamn sweatshirt.

But Donghyuck is still waiting for an answer. “Yeah, I will,” Mark mumbles. It’s impossibly hard to meet Donghyuck’s eyes, all of a sudden. “I don’t think I will, though.”

The smile he gets in return is soft and Mark just  _ knows _ it’ll be burned on the backs of his eyelids for a long, long time.

*

They’re still on the couch an hour later, Donghyuck still on top but considerably more horizontal now. Something vibrates insistently right under Mark’s hip.

Mark does his best to pretend it’s not happening, right before Donghyuck sighs, then digs into the couch cushions under them.

It turns out it’s his phone. And Renjun is calling.

Donghyuck lazily flicks the green button, putting it on speaker right away, balanced on Mark’s chest.

“Hey,” he says, then yawns. “You’re on speaker. Mark is with me.”

“I know.” Renjun deadpans. The tone of his voice is a little scary, if Mark’s being honest. “You know, Lee Donghyuck, it would be nice if you locked your phone from time to time. It would be really nice to not be butt-dialed while you’re making out with your boyfriend.”

Now.  _ Now  _ Mark can feel the color draining from his face. 

Donghyuck clears his throat. “Uh. How much did you hear?”

“Enough! I heard enough.” Renjun replies, ice seeping through his voice. “And I’d really like it if I never heard it again.”

The line goes dead and Donghyuck just stares at his phone for a few moments. He carefully picks it up and places it on the floor, as far from the couch as he can reach. 

“Well,” he says, grinning up at Mark. “At least now you definitely know I have nothing going on with Renjun?”

Right.


	12. mythology (renjun/jaemin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 24 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “Patience… is not something I’m known for.”  
[00fftober day twelve thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1182672208306544640), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day12](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY12?src=hashtag_click&f=live)  
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

“So, uh,” Jaemin starts, trying his best to keep his voice under control. “You know how I’ve been trying to summon a familiar even though you told me numerous times that my magic isn’t stable enough to do that yet?”

Mark sighs on the other end of the line. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

*

So here’s the thing: Jaemin is stubborn to a fault. He’s competitive as hell, too. Prideful. Things all his friends keep reminding him of each time he fucks up. _Don’t try to summon a familiar on your own_ in Jaemin’s brain translates to _You’re not good enough to do it on your own, _even if he knows his friends don’t actually mean him any harm. Which, of course, means that trying to summon a familiar is exactly what he does.

As soon as Mark rings the doorbell Snuggles leaps out of the couch and wags her tail while Jaemin gets up to unlock the door. There’s a chuckle somewhere behind him but  _ that  _ Jaemin ignores with all his might. He needs to be relatively sane, at least until Mark figures out a way to sort this mess out.

Snuggles is still waggling her tail, looking up at Mark with fire in her eyes. All six of them. She’s two seconds away from pouncing, Jaemin can see it, so he quickly ushers her away from the door. Mark stares after her, silent. 

When he finally looks up at Jaemin, he looks almost dead inside.

“Na Jaemin,” Mark says slowly, still in the doorway. “Please tell me this was not a hellhound I just saw.”

“It is!” The gleeful voice behind Jaemin replies. “He named her Snuggles. Isn’t it adorable?”

*

They’re sat on the couch a bit later, Jaemin in the middle. He feels like a child between his parents, about to be scolded. Mark certainly looks like a disappointed parent. Their third guest… doesn’t. In fact, he kind of looks like he wants to eat Jaemin alive.

“Let me get this straight,” Mark starts, “you tried to summon a familiar. Even though everyone told you not to.” Jaemin nods. “And then you accidentally summoned a hellhound.” Another nod. “And then its actual owner, the king of the fucking underworld, came to look for it.”

Mark rarely ever swears. This is how Jaemin knows he really fucked up this time. The king in question chuckles to the side and to hell with eternal damnation, he really wants to hit him. Or pinch him really, really hard. Or at least stick his tongue out at him. Self-reservation aside, Jaemin doesn’t think his pride can take more hits tonight.

“I named her Snuggles,” Jaemin offers unhelpfully. The king, who had introduced himself as R-e-n-j-u-n (spelled it out with fire, too) because apparently puny mortals are unable to pronounce his real name right. Jaemin did attempt calling him Hades once and has an eyebrow half burnt off to show for it.

Snuggles lifts one of her heads into Jaemin’s palm, asking for pets. She’s sprawled between him and Renjun on the couch, with her butt in Renjun’s lap and all three of her heads in Jaemin’s. There is a reason he named her Snuggles. She likes to do this on the floor too, but while she doesn’t seem to be harmful when content the fur around her collar is, well. Flames. Jaemin fears for his carpet.

(Said fur is currently placed in his lap, right over some Very Important Parts and Jaemin absently wonders if he should maybe rearrange his priorities list.)

Mark watches as Jaemin pets each of Snuggles’ heads. “And you couldn’t wait a few more weeks, when you could’ve learned how to control your magic and summon a real familiar?”

Jaemin purses his lips. “Patience… is not something I’m known for.”

Renjun snorts and there it is again. The urge to hurt him somehow. When Jaemin turns to glare at him, however, the look in Renjun’s eyes turns his annoyance into something else entirely. He gently pushes Snuggles’ heads a bit further from his crotch.

“Clearly.” Mark huffs. “Okay, I honestly have no idea what to do with this. We’ll have to ask someone higher in the coven, probably even Taeyong. It’ll take time.”

Jaemin’s first thought is yay! More time with Snuggles. Then his fingers brush Renjun’s, who’s also petting her. Jaemin’s eyes go wide. “But he-”

“I’m not leaving without my hellhound.” Renjun states, final.

“Well, Jaemin,” Mark shrugs, completely unimpressed. “Congratulations on your new pet. And roomate.”

Renjun grins, all teeth. “I’m taking your bed.”

“What? No, I’m taking my bed-”

“It’s fine, we can share,” Renjun’s says, voice sending shivers down Jaemin’s spine. Mark, on the other hand, looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but in this room.

“Didn’t you have a wife?” He mutters, not really meeting Renjun’s eyes.

“You mortals,‘ Renjun rolls his eyes. “Just because we told you something was true an eternity ago doesn’t mean it was really true. Or that it hasn’t changed. And even if it was,” his eyes travel down Jaemin’s body like he’s prey. “Gods aren’t very big on monogamy.”

“Okay!” Mark exclaims, arms in the air. He gets up, rushing to the door. “This is more than I ever wanted to know, thanks. I’ll tell the rest of the coven and you...” He chances one last look at Jaemin, who may or may not be slightly closer to Renjun than he was five seconds ago. “Have fun, I guess.”

With that, he’s out the door, not missing the chance to slam it on his way out. 

It’s quiet for a few moments, only Snuggles’ occasional rumbles breaking the silence. Eventually, Jaemin glances at Renjun who’s already looking at him.

“So,” he says, that awful grin on his lips again, “wanna show me where I’m sleeping?”


	13. neon (chenle/renjun)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 3 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “Now? Now you listen to me?”
> 
> warning for alcohol (nothing excessive though). i thought of it as based in china where the legal drinking age is 18 so it's not technically underage but be warned anyway, chenle's the one doing the drinking
> 
> [00fftober day thirteen thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1183034588680974337), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day13](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY13?src=hashtag_click&f=live)   
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

The night of his eighteenth birthday, Chenle decides they’re going out.

He’s been considering it for a while now which prompted his parents to provide alcohol for his birthday party, in a vain attempt to stop him from going to a real club. Renjun was the one that insisted they shouldn’t celebrate at Chenle’s house for the precise reason that Chenle is a stubborn idiot (Renjun’s words) and they’d end up out anyway. Chenle made the mistake of letting himself being swayed by his parents and here they are now. All this managed to do is get his friends tipsy, some straight up drunk. It’s barely even eleven.

“I wanna go out,” Chenle says aloud. The few people awake grumble in protest but it’s Chenle’s birthday. He still has an hour left of it and he’s going to use it to its fullest. “I’m going out whether any of you are coming or not.”

“Now? Now you listen to me?” Renjun sighs, exasperated. It probably helps that he’s the only sober one left. “This is a terrible idea. How about we just finish the night here instead?”

“It’s my birthday.” Chenle states. Most of the effects of the alcohol have faded by now and the soft, childlike voice Renjun is talking in only grates on his nerves. “I’m a legal adult now. I can go out if I want to. You don’t have to come,” he adds as an afterthought, even though part of him really wants someone to come. He really wants Renjun to come. False bravado aside, going to some stuffy club all by himself makes him nervous and Renjun… he’s always felt safe.

Renjun sighs. He never did this for his own birthday and to the best of Chenle’s knowledge, he’s not exactly the club-going type. Chenle does want to do something special, though. He can feel his ID is burning a hole through his wallet and he’s old enough now. He wants to _ do things. _

“Fine,” Renjun concedes eventually. “But I’m picking the place.”

*

By the time they get off the taxi most of the alcohol effect has worn off. Chenle follows Renjun through a string of questionable alleyways, each lined with a bright, neon sign every few meters. He wonders if he should maybe reconsider his stance on the Renjun not being the club-going type.

He bypasses the more popular clubs with lines spanning nearly a block. The one Renjun stops in front looks… more like a bar, really. It’s located at the end of an alley, sandwiched between three bigger buildings. It’s in the more central part of the city which makes up for the slightly questionable appearance. There are people spilling out from inside, propped up on the walls of the other buildings. Chenle is pretty sure he can see two girls making out in the far corner, too. The sign on top reads Wave, in loopy, neon-blue letters. It looks old-fashioned, and Chenle glances back in the direction of all the popular clubs they passed to get here. Some of them are even visible from here.

“It’s probably not the ideal place for wild, just-turned-eighteen party you were looking for,” Renjun says as they walk closer. “But it’s my favorite bar. And they’re rather… open-minded, which helps as well.”

“It’s fine,” Chenle says, surprising both of them. “It looks perfect.”

It doesn’t. It looks like something out of an old, shitty movie and part of Chenle wants to walk right back the way they came from, towards one of the fancy clubs they passed by. The bigger part of him, however, can see the thinly veiled vulnerability in Renjun’s eyes. This is something special, at least for him. And Chenle will be damned if he doesn’t learn to appreciate it.

*

It’s not glamorous. The inside of the club is brightly colored but dimly lit which makes for a rather interesting interior. The music is louder than Chenle imagines a regular bar would have but definitely not loud enough to scream party. There’s a small stage to the side which is currently being used as a dance floor but even that is mostly used by people who are too drunk to care that most of the other patrons aren’t dancing. It’s far from the crush of people Chenle had imagined when he announced he wants to go out but it’s nice. Cozy. He sees why Renjun would like this kind of place.

What Chenle doesn’t like is the girl that has been trying to hit on him for the past twenty minutes. She’s cute and she knows it, which Chenle is willing to admit is kind of hot. In a different setting, on a different day, he might even be into it. But it’s not. And the point doesn’t seem to be getting across.

After the second drink he refuses, as politely as possible, Chenle finally resorts to dragging Renjun to the makeshift dance floor, away from the bar. He makes a point of dancing with Renjun, instead of around him.

It takes an entire song and a fair bit of the second one but it has the desired effect: the girl catches on. She looks impossibly embarrassed when she finally notices, retreating back to her group of friends right away. 

Dancing with Renjun turns out to have an unexpected side effect as well, however. Chenle doesn’t really want to stop.

Renjun has his back to the thinning crowd and he doesn’t seem to have noticed that the plan worked yet. In a split second decision, Chenle channels all the courage of the shot of tequila he was old enough to order, wraps a hand around Renjun’s waist and pulls him closer.

What he didn’t account for, however, is the distance between him and the wall. Renjun lets himself be pulled, which makes Chenle lose his balance and hit the wall behind him. He ends up sandwiched between Renjun and the wall which, all things considered, feels quite nice.

Renjun looks up at him, eyebrow raised. “If compromising positions was what you wanted to do we could’ve done this back at your house as well.”

“Shut up,” Chenle mutters. “I… didn’t know it’s a thing I wanted.”

Who’s he lying to, that shot was not enough to excuse anything. He can pretend, though. 

Renjun laughs. “Okay, cowboy. We’ll see if you still want to tomorrow.” He pushes himself off Chenle and the wall and offers him a hand. “I think this is enough partying for tonight, yeah?”

Chenle wonders where all his wit went all of a sudden. In the end, he just takes Renjun’s hand. They never needed a lot of words anyway.


	14. comfort object (chenle/lucas)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 11 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “It’s not always like this.”
> 
> honorary mention (and rec!): [one step at a time by SlimeQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15985925). it was what introduced me to the idea of this ship and singlehandedly created my soft spot for them <3
> 
> [00fftober day fourteen thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1183396977918271491), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day14](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY14?src=hashtag_click&f=live)   
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

Zhong Chenle was brought into this world with the knowledge that one day, he’ll get to be the king. As the only heir to the Zhong family, of course, his entire childhood was spent studying. Reading dusty old war books and training to be the ruler their kingdom needed. His parents never let him forget it.

As a kid, Chenle would sometimes see the servants’ kids play in the hallways, when their parents weren’t looking. He always looked at them with some sort of longing, right before his teachers would pull him back to the library. He always looked from afar. Always, except for one time.

He’d been wandering the hallways, trying his best to avoid yet another teacher. There were other children and at seven, Chenle found it surprisingly easy to get lost in the chatter, ignore the voices of his teachers berating him. Forget about his obligations for just a moment. 

There was a boy with a smile brighter than the sun and Chenle looked on, mesmerized, right before his teacher found him and dragged him back to the library.

*

He never really managed to escape again but the boy did. He snuck into Chenle’s chambers a few days later, rolled around on his bed as Chenle pretended he’s studying.

Chenle learned he’s the son of one of his father’s guards and a maid, and that his name was Yukhei. He also learned that Yukhei is a little older, which he wasn’t afraid to hold over Chenle’s head, social status be damned.

Up until then, friendship had been something that Chenle only regarded as a tool to help the kingdom grow. That’s what the books taught him, after all. Yukhei taught him a whole world of things that the books never mentioned.

He kept sneaking into Chenle’s chambers, rarely ever caught and barely ever facing consequences because everyone new his dad. Until one day, it stopped.

A day, two, a week. Two weeks in, Chenle realized this: even in his absence, Yukhei was still helping Chenle learn things. He doesn’t quite understand the things he’s learning but he’s eight and  _ something  _ has changed.

*

A month in, Yukhei sneaks in again.

Chenle hates that all his anger, all his petulance - everything evaporates as soon as he can see Yukhei’s smile up close again.

“I won’t be able to come again, my prince.” He says it with a smile, like most things he says, and Chenle can’t understand the anger bubbling inside him. Yukhei doesn’t notice, or pretends not to, eyes burning with determination. “I will train to protect you like my father protects yours.”

“You can still visit,” Chenle says stubbornly because he’s eight and this boy in front of him is the center of his world.

Yukhei laughs, then reaches behind him to untie something. It’s a necklace, Chenle realizes belatedly. It looks nothing like the necklaces his father wears - a simple hemp string, with a tiny bronze coin dangling in the middle. 

“Mother gave it to me,” Yukhei explains as he ties it around Chenle’s neck instead. “She said it will keep me safe and now it will keep you safe while I’m training.”

There is a stack of gold coins they sometimes give him to entertain himself, tucked in a pouch on a shelf he’s too young to reach. He knows they are worth more than Yukhei’s bronze coin because all the books say so.

And yet, when he cups the bronze, falling just this side of his heart, it feels more valuable than all the gold in his father’s treasury.

*

Despite what he said, Yukhei did sneak back in in the weeks that followed, even if it was every other month rather than every other day. Chenle learned to grow up without him and cherish the times he saw him, regardless of when and how long for.

Sometimes, when his teachers would get particularly angry, Chenle would lie awake late at night, lonely in the big bed. It had felt so much warmer when Yukhei was there to mess up his bedsheets. On nights like this, he’d get the bronze coin out of its hiding place and keep it on the pillow next to him. Just like that, the bed didn’t seem as big, his chambers didn’t feel as empty.

*

It went like that for years. Yukhei sneaking in, looking older, wiser each time. Chenle looked at himself in the mirror, wondering if he was growing up as well. It felt like he did.

And then, one day, Yukhei sneaked in with a gash down his cheek.

It involved a lot of unfamiliar emotions. Fear, mostly. But Chenle was a soon-to-be king and when he spoke, his voice barely wavered. “What happened?”

“I am part of the royal guard now,” Yukhei explained gleefully, patting his cheek. “We were escorting your mother to the residence of one of the lords. Got attacked on the way.” 

Chenle traced the gash with a finger, careful not to touch the wound. It had barely scabbed over. “You sound awfully excited for someone who got slashed in the face.”

There must have been something betraying all those unfamiliar feelings. Yukhei’s eyes softened, and he caught Chenle’s fingers in his own. “It’s not always like this. It’s not safe, I won’t lie, but knowing I’m protecting someone makes it all worth it. It’ll be even better once I get to protect you.”

Chenle reached around his neck to find the coin, hidden under layers of clothing. “You’ll be in danger then, too.”

And there it was again: the smile that’s brighter than the sun. It seemed no matter how much Yukhei changed his smiles remained the same and they were the same smiles that visit Chenle’s dreams sometimes. Yukhei’s smile was the same. It was Chenle’s reaction to it that had changed, it seemed.

He looked away, only for Yukhei’s fingers to guide him back gently. “It’ll be worth it.”

*

When Zhong Chenle finally assumes the throne at seventeen, the hemp string with a bronze coin dangling in the middle is still wrapped around his neck, hidden under all the royal robes at his crowning.

There are royal guards everywhere but one stands out, closer than the rest. You can’t see a lot through his armor but if you did, you’d probably find him smiling.


	15. film (jeno/mark)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 15 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “Can you wait for me?”  
i am fcking dead but the thing is here. whatever it is. it's still 15th in spain please don't judge me
> 
> [00fftober day fifteen thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1183759927203917824), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day15](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY15?src=hashtag_click&f=live)   
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

Back in kindergarten, Jeno went through a photography phase. He wasn’t very good at it, of course, but he carried around a 35mm camera for a whole week. It was an old thing, sometimes he had to ask teachers for help to get it working but to his five year old self, it was the most amazing thing ever.

He had a favorite subject to take pictures of, too: an older boy by the name of Mark Lee.

Jeno’s kindergarten was small, all the children lumped together regardless of age. The only reason he knew Mark Lee was older was because he never stopped bragging about graduating that year, moving far, far away. Jeno’s fascination for photography started a little after the first time he mentioned it.

Mark grumbled a lot the first time Jeno attacked him with the camera but by the end of the week, he was posing willingly. He started sharing his candy with Jeno, too which was great.

Like every kid, Jeno’s attention shifted away from his camera very soon, too busy playing hide and seek with Mark and his friends. It was great. And then the year was over. Mark hugged Jeno on the last day and Jeno gave him all his pictures in return.

He balled his little fists in Mark’s ugly green shirt and asked, “Can you wait for me? I’ll graduate next year and we can go to school together and it’ll be great again.”

Mark smiled at him, told him he’d ask his mom. Jeno was ecstatic. 

Mark went home, hand in hand with his mom and Jeno went home too. He returned after summer, bright and ready to start his last year in kindergarten, just like his mom told him. Mark never came.

*

Jeno as a university student isn’t all that different to Jeno in kindergarten, he thinks. He only has a handful of friends and a track record of disaster relationships. People who wanted to date him for his face or for his supposed popularity or his grades. Really, anything but Jeno himself. And he fell in love every single time.

Mark Lee rarely crosses his mind now, it has been fifteen years. He still keeps the film from that one week in a box under his bed, though. It’s nice to remember a time when all he had to worry about was what game are they going to play the next day.

When he lifts it towards the sun he can almost make Mark Lee’s face smiling in the shots. 

Jeno kind of wishes he still had the photos.

*

Fifteen years later, Mark Lee struts into Jeno’s Economics lecture on a sunny Wednesday afternoon.

It’s almost a drama worthy moment. Jeno thinks he might have even gasped out loud. It’s weird, how he never got the big realization in movies - the kids from the flashbacks never looked like the actual actor. Add to that the fact that it has been  _ fifteen years. _ Mark’s face is all but a blurry blob in Jeno’s memory. It makes no sense.

And yet, right now, Jeno is willing to bet his right leg the person climbing the stairs of the auditorium is, indeed, Mark.

He doesn’t seem to have recognized Jeno. He doesn’t seem to have noticed him either. 

Jeno thinks about the film, hidden in a box under his dorm bed. He could strike up a conversation. It’s perfectly normal to recognize someone from your childhood. Right?

Mark is about five seconds from reaching Jeno’s row. Maybe he’ll recognize him, maybe not.

Jeno doesn’t give him the chance. He drops on the desk, pretending to be asleep even if his heart is going double speed. It’s only after Mark’s steps have passed by, halted somewhere behind Jeno, shuffled into a seat, that Jeno straightens up again.

It has been fifteen years. No one remembers this long.

*

Of course, it doesn’t end there. Jeno’s life is never this easy.

Mark becomes friends with Donghyuck, then Jaemin, and suddenly he’s melded into their friend group like he belongs there. Inevitably, they start hanging out together and despite Jeno’s dedicated attempts, Mark is simply unavoidable. 

And then it happens.

“Wait,” Mark says one day, when they’ve crashed Jaemin’s apartment because he’s the only one that lives off campus. “Jeno. Lee Jeno? Didn’t we go to kindergarten together?”

Now what, Lee Jeno. He blinks at Mark, summoning his best confused-surprised expression. “Uh, yeah, probably.”

“Yeah, definitely!” Mark confirms with glee. “You kept taking pictures of me. I still have them in a photobook at home.”

So Mark Lee remembers. Jeno files this away for consideration back at his own room, where he doesn’t risk being made fun of in his face.

*

The revelation that Mark does, in fact, remember brings a whole avalanche of changes. The first and probably most annoying is that Jaemin decides Jeno must absolutely try to restore his nonexistent passion for photography.

The second is that each time the pictures are brought up (which is a lot) someone would make fun of Jeno for them. This is second place to Jaemin’s photography obsession only because Mark never raises to the bait, voice always full of fondness when he talks about kindergarten. It usually wears the others out and Jeno gets away almost scot-free. 

The third and hardest to process is realizing that what Mark meant by “at home” is “at my dorm room, here”. 

Jeno gets to see all the pictures full size, in full color. It’s a funny contrast to the film in his own room. Here, it’s not hard at all to make out Mark’s face and their friends’ faces, too. There’s even one which Jeno remembers a teacher taking, with all of them huddled on the bench just outside the kindergarten playground. He has the picture on film, of course, but seeing it like this… It’s a whole new experience.

He doesn’t mention the film. It feels strange.

*

He doesn’t mention it but once Jeno gets to his own room he takes it out of its box. It’s night already so there is no sun to lift the film to but his bedside lamp does the job just as well.

Tracing the shots with his thumb, Jeno wonders if he’s about to expand his track record with the biggest disaster yet.


	16. soulbond (renjun/yang2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 7 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “No, and that’s final.”  
[00fftober day three thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1184121755352358915), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day16](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY16?src=hashtag_click&f=live)  
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

As Renjun stomps down the sidewalk, dragging Yangyang away from yet another fancy shoe store, he wonders if fate has an email address for complaints. 

Yangyang struggles against his grip, trying to drag them back to the store. (It’s half hearted. Renjun knows that if he really wanted to get free he could.) 

“But I saw this really nice pair of Balenciagas, you see-” 

“No, and that’s final.” Renjun makes sure his voice is extra dead as he says it. Unfortunately, Yangyang has long since learned to discern his levels of annoyance so the impact is little to none. The struggling continues on and Renjun rolls his eyes.

He’s well aware they’ll end up in that store at some later point. While Renjun refuses to admit is that he’s well and truly whipped (out loud) Yangyang always knows how to push just the right amount. And for all his grumbling, somehow, he always ends up outsmarted.

*

It’s a scam. The whole soulmate thing was a huge scam and really, Renjun needs that email address, like, yesterday.

Sure, it was great when they first met. Renjun was never too invested in the soulmate business but being an art student and all, it was getting kind of tiring to have to justify his color choices when all he saw was shades of grey. Then Yangyang showed up, bringing all the colors in Renjun’s world. Soulmate, color? Perfect. 

(He still remembers Yangyang’s face when he saw a tiny violet in the park where they bumped into. He has tried to draw it, numerous times, but he never quite manages to get Yangyang’s eyes right.)

Renjun wanted to coo at him at first, he’d seemed so shy, quiet _ . _ So mesmerized with all these new colors replacing the grey. Somewhere deep down, Renjun was too. But having to explain his personal life along with his art so many times… The colors were more of a relief, really. Now Yangyang. He was a surprise.

They hit it off rather quickly, which brings Renjun to his initial issue: the complaints email. Because with each day Yangyang got more and more comfortable which would’ve been great if along with the comfort, Yangyang didn’t gain the ability to dance on Renjun’s nerves just so. By the time he realized that first impression couldn’t be further from the truth? Yangyang had already carved a spot for himself in Renjun’s life, maybe even in his heart.

*

They end up back at the shoe store not even a full hour later. Yangyang has this smug little expression as he hands his card to the cashier and Renjun has to resist the urge to bang his head into the pristine white display right in front of him. He says nothing as they exit this time because each of the things he wants to say will have the verbal version of that smug little smile as a reply and he’s not about to admit defeat. Even if he’s, for all intents and purposes, defeated.

(Renjun allows himself a smile when Yangyang looks away, staring fondly at the bag in his hands. Not a lot of things make him as happy as his prized collection and if Renjun has to be honest, Yangyang smiling might be the best perk of meeting completing his soulbond, colors included. It’s another thing Renjun fails to get right when he draws him but it’s okay. He has all the time in the world to practice.)


	17. monkey's paw (renjun/lucas)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 30 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “I’m with you, you know that.”  
at least it involves wishes?????
> 
> 00fftober day [seventeen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9rUFQJrCT7M) [thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1184486523535687685), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day17](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY17?src=hashtag_click&f=live)   
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

After close to 500 years spent in a lamp, Renjun is willing to admit that being a genie can get somewhat… repetitive. Maybe lonely too, if he was feeling particularly melancholic. Which, to his utter displeasure, happens quite a lot lately. It’s been over sixty years since some dumbass human rubbed his lamp and he ran out of cracks to count in the copper like, fifty-nine years ago.

On the days when the sun breaks through the worn out parts of his lamp, Renjun likes to stretch out inside and remind himself just how fun it is to mess with the humans.

His favorite wish is the “gold” one. His lamp seems to have a preference for sandy places and more often than not, Renjun will find himself on some remote beach or a desert when the lamp is rubbed. The sun is nice. He’s glad his lamp isn’t one of those pretentious ones, who are all about caves. He’s heard the tales.

But back to the wish: gold. 

The greedy idiots never remembered to add specifics even if Renjun told them each time. “I want gold.”

It’s a classic: Renjun would give them all the gold they wish, except it’ll be in one giant piece, maybe the size of a small mountain if he’s feeling generous. The catch? If they let the gold out of sight while it’s still in the sand, it disappears.

Sometimes Renjun would be extra petty, making the lump of gold the size of a peanut but the weight of a mountain. It’s hilarious, watching grown men lose their mind over failing to lift something this tiny.

What matters here is that in his extensive experience as a genie, Renjun has seen pretty much everything. Greed, misguided love, more greed. Plain evilness (those Renjun enjoyed making suffer).

All his years in the lamp, however, couldn’t have prepared Renjun for Wong Yukhei.

*

“So you’re a genie,” Renjun’s shiny new human says, curious. “Nice to meet you, I’m Yukhei.”

Renjun rubs at his temples. “My name isn’t actually  _ genie.” _

Yukhei watches him expectantly, to which Renjun raises an eyebrow. Like hell he’s going to tell some random human his real name.

“Okay, but since you won’t tell me your name, can I call you genie?”

A sigh. “Can we get on with your wish?” 

It’s obvious he’s not getting out of this one, so Renjun decides not to waste his time, at least. 

“Just one?” Yukhei asks, glancing between the lamp and Renjun.

“Look at that lamp, you ungrateful ass!” Renjun exclaims. Always, all the same. He snatches the lamp and shoves it in Yukhei’s face. It’s copper, a little cracked. The lid sits on kinda funny, from that time an arrogant prince decided he doesn’t find Renjun’s jokes funny. Yukhei blinks at him. “If you wanted the full experience you should’ve gotten a fancier lamp. They like to hide in caves, just so you know.”

Yukhei shrugs, taking the lamp from Renjun with more gentleness than his giant hands look capable of. “I’m not too hung up on the number, I was just curious.” He pauses, glancing at the lamp again, at Renjun again. “Can you tell me what people have asked for before me?”

Renjun narrows his eyes. “Is this your wish?”

“Nope,” Yukhei grins. “I’m asking for some of your stories. You probably have so many of them! You’re free to say no, though.”

Renjun can only stare for a few long seconds, stunned maybe for the first time in the last two hundred years. He studies Yukhei’s face for a bit, trying to detect the hidden agenda there. When he doesn’t find one, he sighs again. He has a whole bunch of stories. It would be nice to actually share them with someone.

*

“That’s mean!” Yukhei exclaims at the tales about gold wishes. He’s laughing, though.

Renjun shrugs. “They deserved it.”

The thought that Yukhei might use the stories to craft a better wish for himself niggles at Renjun’s consciousness but it’s fine. He’s smart, he can absolutely find a way to turn it against him. Whatever it is.

“What about you?” Yukhei asks, still as curious.

Renjun finds himself stunned for a second time today. “What about me?”

“Were you always a genie?” Yukhei starts, eyes alight. “What do you do in your free time, when you’re not turning people’s wishes against them? Doesn’t it get boring? Can you free yourself?”

“Whoa there,” Renjun blinks. He wonders how dumb of an idea would be if he told the truth. Ah well. If it came to it, he can always wipe this encounter from Yukhei’s mind. “I wasn’t always a genie. I was human like you, just angered the wrong person.” It’s not something he likes to think about, so he hurries to change the subject before Yukhei picks up on it. “I pretty much stay in the lamp when I’m not in the process of granting a wish. It does get kind of boring, to be honest.”

Yukhei hums “What about freeing yourself?”

What’s with this boy and uncomfortable questions, really? “I can’t free myself,” Renjun says eventually. “Someone has to wish me free and with me being able to grant wishes, people aren’t exactly queueing to free me.”

“But do you want to be freed?” Yukhei insists.

And this… this is something Renjun thinks about. It’s not a conscious thought but it pops up in his mind every so often. In the lamp, outside it. Watching the sun through the cracks and wishing he had real, human feet to step in the sand.

“Yeah,” he says in the end. “I guess I do.”

Yukhei beams, the brightest one yet. “I think I know what my wish will be.”

*

Renjun makes sure to triple check. Every five minutes. 

“Gold?” He asks, maybe for the fiftieth time.

“After everything you told me? No way,” Yukhei laughs. Before Renjun can protest, he goes on, like he has all the fifty times before. “My family and friends aren’t struggling and they like their lives as they are. I wouldn’t want to force someone to love me and material things just sound useless in the grand scheme of things. Not to mention,” he says conspiratorially, “you’ll definitely find a way to make them backfire.”

Yukhei is right. Renjun doesn’t know his family but everything else? Definitely. But being petty and cursed has been Renjun’s life for so long.

“I’m set on my wish,” Yukhei says, not unkindly. “Shall we?”

It’s Renjun’s  _ thing. _ He’s the one that grant wishes. And yet, he only nods.

*

Having legs that aren’t an illusion made of genie magic is a strange feeling. Renjun’s toes are buried in the sand and he hasn’t moved in the last five minutes. Compared to the restlessness of a genie body his normal, human one is almost lethargic.

There are so many things to get used to.

“Hey, don’t be so gloomy,” Yukhei mumbles, patting Renjun’s shoulder. Now that Renjun is human too he seems so much more… reserved. Awkward. “I’m with you, you know that. I can’t just let you get back to humanity all by yourself when I’m the one that brought you back.”

Frankly, that’s exactly what Renjun was expecting. For once, it feels nice to be wrong.

He looks at Yukhei, at his eyes - unsure but so, so determined. For the first time in a long, long while, Renjun finds himself smiling for real. “My name is Renjun.”

The awkwardness falls away like an ill-fitting shirt. Yukhei beams, arm slung around Renjun’s shoulders. “Nice to meet you, Renjun. I’d love to be your tour guide of the world.”


	18. journey (jeno/renjun/jaemin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which ot6 dream film a parody of [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LatorN4P9aA) journey song. guess who plays the girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 8 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “Can you stay?”  
i'm so fcking laaaaaaaaate but there is a fic!! it exists!! it's still 18th somewhere. probably  
(also it's a bit spicy here and there. it's very far from nsfw but. yeah. thought it's worth mentioning)
> 
> [00fftober day eighteen thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1184858596489588737), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day18](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY18?src=hashtag_click&f=live)   
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

“Guys please,” Jisung begs, probably for the fifth time. Jeno ignores him, like he has the first four. “Pleaaaaaaaase.”

“Why do we have to be a part of your costume?” Renjun asks. It’s the first reasonable question since Jisung initially pitched the idea. 

“Because!” Jisung exclaims, hands flailing wildly. “I can’t just go to school dressed as an oldschool rock guy, that would be boring. There has to be something else, too.”

Chenle sighs. “Why don’t you buy a pair of plastic fangs like the rest of the kids?” 

He puts up a good front but Jeno knows. When they inevitably break, Chenle will be the first to fall. It’s _ Jisung. _Good thing Jaemin isn’t here, at least. There wouldn’t have been a fight at all.

“It’s high school.” Jisung stresses. “Not being like the rest is the precise goal here. You were in the exact same position literally two years ago. Please? It’ll be a little like a couple’s costume?” The last words are aimed at Chenle specifically now, and Jeno knows they lost.

*

Donghyuck also protests when he learns about the idea but by that time everyone else is on board so he has little to no choice (also, _ Jisung). _

So it’s a fact: they’re doing a parody of Journey to aid Jisung’s Halloween costume.

“I still don’t understand why it has to be them specifically,” Jeno mumbles, picking up a fake moustache like it’s something poisonous. “As far as old bands go, they aren’t even all that fascinating visually.”

In the corner, Jaemin is watching the music video for the tenth time today, mesmerized. To no one’s surprise, he jumped at the idea as soon as Jisung presented it to him.

“Keyboard glued to the wall,” is Jisung’s only reply.

Jeno just sighs.

*

“Okay,” Donghyuck says, as they’re assigning the roles. “So Chenle is bass, I’m the vocalist, Jisung is keyboard, Jeno is lead guitar and Renjun is drums. Is that correct?”

Jisung nods. “Now we only have to come up with some role for Jaemin and recruit a girl.”

“Some role,” Jaemin huffs. “I want to be an integral part of this performance, thank you very much.”

“Right,” Jisung rolls his eyes. 

“Or,” Renjun interjects, effectively ruining the kids these days rant they all know is coming. Jeno doesn’t like the glint in his eyes at all. “We could make Jaemin the girl. His hair kind of matches. And we no longer go to high school anyway, so he won’t have to face the consequences.”

Jeno glances at Jaemin’s recently dyed hair. It’s blonde and fluffy and it does kind of match. But Jaemin in a tight leather skirt and heels?

His barely audible _ Oh no _ is completely overpowered by Jaemin’s loud, gleeful “Oh yes.”

*

Two days later, Jaemin is fluffing up his hair in the mirror behind Donghyuck. Donghyuck, on the other hand, has whipped up a whole ass eyeshadow palette, even if the girl from the video doesn’t seem to have that much on. Or maybe Jeno just doesn’t know the first thing about makeup. Figures, Lee Donghyuck would be the one with pro makeup skills. 

Chenle and Jisung managed to thrift the majority of the outfits for the band because they’re boring. Jaemin’s clothes, though. That was a bit challenging.

But it’s all good now, all outfits laid out on Donghyuck’s bed. For Jaemin, that is: a white leather jacket stolen from Chenle’s mom, a fake leather skirt courtesy of Renjun’s mom (how their moms willingly lend them _ this _type of clothes Jeno has no idea). They went with a simple black shirt because you can’t really see anything in the video and then… the heels. Jeno wants to cry each time they enter his field of vision by accident. They’re white and pointy, just like the ones in the video but they’re quite a bit higher. They couldn’t find shorter ones that could fit Jaemin even remotely. The heels bring up the tan stockings Renjun procured tan as well, complete with the garter belt and everything. Jeno… prefers to pretend they don’t exist. For his own sanity.

With Halloween near, Jisung wants to get on with the filming as soon as possible. The plan is that they upload the parody once it’s done. If all goes well it’ll have about a week to circulate around school, so Jisung can then show up on their Halloween party with everyone already in awe.

It’s a good plan, as much as this whole thing can be even remotely a good idea.

*

It’s a _ horrible _plan.

They’re supposed to start filming in half an hour, Chenle’s backyard chosen as the set (mainly because he’s the only one with a backyard). Everyone already in costume and Jaemin with full makeup on. 

Jeno wanders into Chenle’s garage where most of their supplies are, only to find Jaemin, in full costume, pressed against the wall, Renjun’s hand creeping under Jaemin’s skirt. It’s hiked up too, it must be because Jaemin’s garters are peeking out and they definitely weren’t earlier. It makes Jaemin’s legs look even longer than the heels do and it makes the difference in height even more… striking.

He can only watch, frozen, as Renjun’s fingers travel higher and higher. When they disappear out of sight, Jeno is finally able to tear his eyes from Jaemin’s legs, only to be met with his eyes. Because Jaemin is staring right back at him over Renjun’s shoulder, lips quirked into a smile.

Jeno slams the door to the garage shut, probably a little too loud, and rushes up the stairs. Maybe if he tries hard enough he can wish the last few minutes out of existence.

*

The filming goes relatively well. Jeno goes out of his way to avoid both Jaemin and Renjun which proves to be a bit difficult, especially when they have to film the closeups with Jaemin’s face. But it works out. 

The instruments they use are toy ones which makes for an even funnier shots when Jisung plays the tiny keyboard glued to the door of Chenle’s garage.

It’s great, right before the kids disperse in search of snacks, aided by Donghyuck for the extra pair of hands.

Jeno is unceremoniously dragged into the garage, where Jaemin flutters his fake eyelashes while Renjun looks positively evil.

“So,” Renjun starts, offhand. “A little birdie told me you enjoyed watching us make out.”

Now. Now would be a great time for the ground to swallow him whole. “I, uh,” is all Jeno manages to get out before Jaemin loses the innocent expression.

Jeno doesn’t realize he’s been backing away until Renjun points it out. “Can you stay? This time?” His voice is softer than his expression was and Jeno doesn’t look up in fear that his eyes might match. It’s an out if he’s ever seen one and to his surprise, Jeno finds he doesn’t want to take it.

It must show on his face somehow, because the next time Renjun speaks the softness is all gone, replaced by a knowing tone.

“Maybe it was just Jaemin’s outfit, then?” he asks, fingers slowly trailing down to lift the hem of Jaemin’s skirt. Jeno can’t help it - his eyes follow the movement.

He manages to tear his gaze away, only to be met with Renjun’s stupid, smug expression. Jeno really wishes he could wipe it off his face. Possibly with his own face.

Wait, what?

Jaemin beckons him closer, one hand clenched around the hem of Renjun’s shirt. Bit by bit, Jeno can feel his resolve crumbling. Ah well.

*

In the end, Jisung does just buy a pair of plastic fangs.

He had the misfortune of entering the garage right as Renjun had a hand up Jaemin’s shirt with the other buried in Jeno’s hair. To Jeno’s dismay, Chenle and Donghyuck followed right after which meant loud, high laughter and a forty-minute rant about ruining Jaemin’s perfect makeup respectively.

Jisung claims he’s been scarred for life and will never listen to Journey ever again. In Jeno’s honest opinion, it’s probably for the best.


	19. bets (hyuck/renjun/jeno)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> same au as [day 9, storm](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20835191/chapters/49857035). probably a few months into the future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 6 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “Yes, I’m aware. Your point?”  
im gonna cry this is the longest one yet WHAT'S WITH OT3S WHY DO THEY ALWAYS GO BIG
> 
> [00fftober day nineteen thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1185252872880963584), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day19](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY19?src=hashtag_click&f=live)   
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

If a month ago someone had told Donghyuck he’d be spending time with Renjun, allone, willingly, he would’ve probably laughed. And then slapped them because fuck you, Na Jaemin.

(It did happen. Donghyuck did not, in fact, slap Jaemin but he was very close to doing so.)

But lo and behold, a month and a shitty project assignment later Donghyuck is willing to reconsider his initial dislike for Renjun. It would’ve been fine if Jeno wasn’t paired with the principal’s daughter instead of Donghyuck. She’s had the most obvious crush on Jeno since the beginning of the term and Donghyuck is willing to bet the assignment was anything but random. Dumb rich, spoiled kids.

Injustice aside, Donghyuck ended up paired with Renjun and to his surprise, it turned out he was a hundred times less annoying when Jeno isn’t around. This might have to do with Donghyuck’s misguided feelings more than with Renjun himself but that’s a conversation he’s not ready to have yet. Renjun and him have a lot in common, personality included, and falling into an easy friendship was as easy as breathing. 

So this is the situation, a month later: Donghyuck, with a whirlwind of emotions about his own best friend. This is a given. It has been over a year now, he’s had time to get used to it. The new addition is Renjun, who is surprisingly easy to get along with despite what the rumors say. Donghyuck finds himself a little fond. He can only hope the stupid feelings don’t take off in Renjun’s direction as well.

*

“Hey,” Renjun’s voice says behind Donghyuck, startling him out of his thoughts. “Sorry I’m late, my hair appointment took more than expected.”

Donghyuck whips around, eyes narrowed because he’s been waiting for  _ hours  _ (twenty minutes) and he’s had to fend off at least ten people attempting to take the empty seat next to him (one, a boy, who scurried off as soon as Donghyuck glared at him). The library is busy at this time of the day and Renjun being late is simply inexcusable-

The train of thought halts, then falls apart as soon as Donghyuck’s eyes actually find Renjun. 

His hair is blonde.

He has his glasses on, too and the sight only serves to break Donghyuck’s poor brain further. The blonde is a sandy shade, not striking enough to get in trouble for but definitely noticeable. It’s terrible.

“Uh,” Donghyuck mutters eventually, when the look in Renjun’s eyes takes an edge of concern. “It’s fine, it wasn’t that much of a delay.”

Renjun frowns. “Are you sure? I thought you’d be more of a pain in the ass about it.”

“Excuse you,” Donghyuck sputters. Finally, his brain kicks back into gear. “When am I ever a pain in the ass?”

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

Donghyuck huffs. If he accidentally kicks Renjun’s chair while he sits, well. It’s an accident.

Renjun only rolls his eyes as he straightens up, then runs a hand through his hair. It draws Donghyuck’s attention back to it, and it’s just as bad as the first time. He kind of wants to swipe the fringe out of Renjun’s eyes because it’s falling into his glasses and it’s adorable and-

Oh. Oops.

*

The next few days are… an experience. Renjun’s light hair goes mostly unnoticed by the majority of the school body but Donghyuck knows for a fact that Jeno’s been having a similar experience. He’s known him long enough.

“If you’re here to whine about Huang Renjun’s hair I suggest you find another table,” Jaemin says instead of a hello as soon as Donghyuck places his tray down.

Jeno looks a little guilty and a lot embarrassed and while Donghyuck was planning on doing just that, he takes pity on his poor, poor friend. “I would do no such thing. And even if I would, you have no right to complain Mr I Wanna Hold Yangyang’s Hand Under The Stars.”

“Oh please,” Jaemin waves a hand, heedless of the warning signs as always. “I’m not even remotely as annoying as you two.” Donghyuck begs to differ but doesn’t get the chance to voice it, because Jaemin starts speaking again. “I can see how you’re looking at him and this one,” he pats Jeno’s shoulder without even looking at him, to Jeno’s utter dismay, “has made sure to inform me just how good Renjun looks in this color. If both of you could just stop being idiots that would be great.”

A few moments pass in dead silence. Jeno is probably aware of Donghyuck’s updated opinion on Renjun just as much as Donghyuck is aware of his but they’ve never really… talked about it. Because it would complicate things, even without the whole in-love-with-your-best-friend thing on Donghyuck’s part. 

“You just had to go ahead and ruin it, didn’t you,” Jeno sighs finally.

It’s like a seal has been broken. The awkwardness dissipates in a heartbeat and Donghyuck is, once again, ready to get physical with Jaemin.

“Oh please,” Jaemin huffs. “Both of you knew you had a thing for Renjun, I’m just stating the obvious. You’re too attached at the hip to let it ruin your friendship. I see no issue. In fact,” Jaemin adds, effectively ruining the retort that’s on the tip of Donghyuck’s tongue. Jaemin grins, slow and evil. “I propose a bet. I’m pretty sure I can ask Yangyang out before either of you have the guts to do the same-”

“Do what?” A new voice says and for a second, Donghyuck’s heart stops. Because the voice belongs to none other than Renjun and wow, this whole thing is one big disaster, isn’t it?

As if to prove Donghyuck’s point, Jaemin opens his mouth again. “These two dumbasses have the same crush and are doing nothing about it. I’m trying to get them to ask them out.”

Now,  _ now  _ Donghyuck can feel the blood drain from his face. Jeno’s expression mirrors his own.

“Ah,” Renjun laughs. “My money is on Donghyuck.”

Everyone stares at Renjun like he’s grown a second head. It goes unnoticed.

Jaemin is the first one to gather his wits. “Hey, I’m playing too! I can totally win this.”

Renjun shrugs, taking a second to swallow before he shrugs. “Still betting on Donghyuck. Yangyang transferred what, at the beginning of the year? If your bragging had any foundation you would’ve made a move already.” 

Jaemin glares at the table at large, violently stabbing at his food. “I’m just waiting for the right moment.”

“Okay, fine,” Donghyuck says. He’s going to regret this so much. “What are we betting on?”

“Loser pays for the date?” Renjun suggests. “And if there isn’t one you can just buy lunch for all of us. I’m always up for a free meal.”

“I never agreed to this,” Jeno mutters, avoiding eye contact with… everyone, pretty much.

“Yes, I’m aware. Your point?” Jaemin rolls his eyes. “You never disagreed either.” 

Jeno huffs but doesn’t protest further.

There’s a sinking feeling in Donghyuck’s stomach. So he’s part of a bet now, to ask his crush out. Proposed, in part, by his crush. Great. There’s absolutely nothing that could go wrong.

*

“So, have you thought about how you’re asking the person out?” Renjun asks one sunny afternoon. Donghyuck almost has a heart attack before the context catches up to him. Renjun doesn’t know.

“Not really,” he admits. He could probably do it right now. They’re in his room, sprawled on his bed and staring at the ceiling. The breaks from studying are getting longer than the studying itself but Donghyuck is fine with it, even if he’ll hate himself tomorrow. He sighs. “I wonder if Jeno has. I can’t stop thinking about what would happen if the person rejects both of us,” he admits. 

His heartbeat is so loud Donghyuck wonders if Renjun can hear it.

“You won’t know unless you ask,” Renjun laughs, soft and breathy. “You two talk about each other a lot, did you know? It’s really cute.”

There’s something that sounds a lot like longing in his voice. Maybe a little fondness. Donghyuck files that fact away for later. 

“We’re friends, of course we talk about each other.” He’s pretty sure the rest doesn’t show in his behaviour. He had a lot of time to master hiding it.

“I guess.” Renjun shrugs. “He does too. You’re both really sweet.” The silence stretches over them, Donghyuck too stunned to come up with a reply. Renjun doesn’t give him the chance to. “Anyway,” he says, sitting up. “The homework won’t write itself.”

*

The atmosphere grows heavy within the next week, everyone in anticipation of… something. Something’s gotta give and, upon taking a look at his bank account, Donghyuck decides that something will be him. It also helps that he noticed Jaemin looking up flower shops on his phone on the way to class and Donghyuck will be damned if he lets Na Jaemin beat him in literally anything.

Which is what brings him here: on a bench in the park closest to Renjun’s home. It’s Saturday and there are people milling about but the particular bench Donghyuck chose is at the bottom of a small hill, somewhat secluded by a few large trees. It’ll have to do. He has a bouquet of daisies in his hand, wrapped in pretty, transparent cellophane with little stars on it.

He’d texted Renjun two hours ago, then showed up to the meeting point fifteen minutes early. Now that his mind is set on something, the fear is almost non-existent. Whatever happens, happens. They’ll get through it, whatever the outcome. Probably.

There is the sound of footsteps taking the small stone stairs to where Donghyuck is sitting and he turns around, smiling, bouquet hidden behind his back.

Only to find Jeno, featuring a very similar bouquet, staring back at him.

Jeno opens his mouth, then closes it. It takes him a moment to find his words. “Why are you here?”

“Asked Renjun to come here.” Donghyuck says, glancing between Jeno’s face and the bouquet. “What are you doing here?”

“Asked Renjun where he is and if I can come,” Jeno replies. He has yet to move from his spot at the bottom of the stairs.

A new set of footsteps breaks the awkward silence and a moment later, Renjun himself is standing between them.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” He starts, amused. He glances at each of the bouquets. “Nice flowers.”

Donghyuck stares at him, then at Jeno. Once again, Jeno’s expression mirrors Donghyuck’s own.

“You knew,” he says, turning back to Renjun. “That it’s you. All this time.”

Renjun shrugs. “I had a suspicion but didn’t know for sure. Jaemin isn’t all that subtle, though.”

Fucking Jaemin. One of these days, Donghyuck will ruin him.

“So what now?” Jeno croaks out. He shuffles over to Donghyuck, taking a seat next to him. Renjun remains the only one still standing.

“Now,” he repeats, all traces of amusement gone from his voice. “We could go home and pretend this never happened. Someone will have to pay for Jaemin’s date, though.” Donghyuck hates the option on the spot, and not just because of the state of his bank account. Renjun isn’t done, though. “You could also do what both of you came here to do. And we could try something… together.”

“Together?” Jeno parrots, voice shaky. He glances at Donghyuck and… blushes? What.

“Together,” Renjun confirms. “I’ll have to admit, I’m kinda hoping it’s the second option but I can live either way. We’re friends.” 

“I’d really like it if we’re not,” Donghyuck blurts out. Both Renjun and Jeno’s eyes lock on him. “I mean-”

“Yeah, I know.” Jeno interrupts, a little more confident now. He reaches for Renjun’s hand and brings him closer, knees bumping together. “I think he knows too.”

Renjun smiles, softer than Donghyuck has ever seen him smile before. He cups Jeno’s cheek with one hand while the other traces Donghyuck’s cheekbone.

“So option two, then?”

“We have so much to talk about,” Donghyuck mutters because saying  _ yeah, I’d love to date both of you _ out loud feels damn near impossible.

“We have all the time in the world.” It’s Jeno that says it and it’s him that takes each of their hands in his own. For a moment, Donghyuck feels like he’s falling behind. He squeezes each of their fingers. 

For quite a long time, Donghyuck was convinced Jeno smiling is the best thing he’s ever witnessed. Watching Renjun this close, he finds there’s no need for the best thing to be just one. 


	20. esp/psychic (hyuck/yangyang)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 26 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “You keep me warm.”  
[00fftober day twenty thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1185561185858408448), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day20](https://twitter.com/search?q=%2300FFTOBER_DAY20&src=typed_query&f=live)  
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

A lot of times, Donghyuck’s gift is just annoying. Sure, it was nice to know when his RA would drop by to check up in college but seeing glimpses of the future makes it virtually impossible for anyone to surprise him ever. And if there’s one thing Donghyuck loves, it’s a well executed surprise.

Birthday parties? He’s long since mastered the face of pure surprise when his friends jump out from wherever they’re hiding. Gifts? The surprised face comes in handy here, too, except when the gift is not the best one, Donghyuck has also learned to gently push his friends in the right direction until the vision changes.

Because, in the end, humans are fickle beings. Donghyuck sees the future but the future is largely affected by the decisions we make.

Case in point: Donghyuck knows they’re going to get snowed in on the very first day of their vacation because weather rarely changes in the last minute.

Unlike the snow storm, however, the dumbass trio does change plans because someone apparently forgot something really important and they’ll be taking the next flight, which lands sometime in the evening. Donghyuck has no idea whose fault it actually was because his visions go forward only but what he does know is that neither Jeno, nor Jaemin or Renjun are going to make it for at least two more days. The snow storm is going to get stronger and stronger, flights are going to get cancelled. Donghyuck was fully intending to use this time to take a break from the outside world, cuddled up next to a fireplace with his friends, it was going to be  _ great. _

And then plans change and Donghyuck is left alone with Yangyang with an assortment of board games and dry food, cut off the world for two whole days.

It’s not that he minds. Quite the contrary, Yangyang is the newest member of their friend group and therefore still interesting, not to mention his personality matches Donghyuck’s quite nicely. Except, the whole matching things goes to extremes sometimes and while it’s not as bad as it was with Jaemin at first, Donghyuck is still apprehensive of being alone with him.

He closes his eyes and sees the fireplace he’d dreamed of, except not in the same way. He’s not snuggled up in a blanket, instead it pools around his waist. Him and Yangyang are fighting over a monopoly board and there is a mug of what is hopefully hot chocolate getting cold on the floor.

In the present, Yangyang grins at him. “So we’ll have to entertain ourselves for a few hours, huh?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck mumbles. It’s more like two days, but Yangyang won’t know that until later in the evening.

*

Once the news of the snow storm break officially, the owner of the cabin calls them to make sure they’ve stocked up on food, just in case. Donghyuck brought quite a lot of things already but they end up on a trip to the store anyway. It’s not that long of a line. Locals seem used to the bad weather warnings and they’re probably at home already, hidden away from the snow and the cold.

“What’s with the maple syrup?” Donghyuck asks as Yangyang heads to check out with all three bottles they found on the shelf.

Yangyang shrugs. “Watched a video about… I think they called it maple something? Taffy? It’s kind of like maple lollipops and they make them in the snow.”

So this is why Donghyuck had a vision of trays of snow in the kitchen this morning. “Cool,” he says out loud.

Yangyang grins at him as he dumps the maple syrup, along with the rest of their groceries on the counter.

*

They spend the majority of the afternoon trying to set up the fireplace. The landlord had lit it for a few days before they got there so it wouldn’t be completely stone cold in the villa when they arrive but the warm air is quickly disappearing, especially with all the trips to the outside they have to make.

Donghyuck is shivering by the time they finally manage to get a fire going and by then, the news of the cancelled flights are out too.

“It seems we’ll be on our own for a bit longer,” Yangyang says, staring at his phone on the table. They just got off the phone with Renjun who went through a whole tirade about how they should stay warm and inside, and do they have enough food? The connection was crackly and while they did manage to finish the conversation, Donghyuck knows phone lines won’t get any better and the electricity will go out too, soon enough. He saw it.

He’s still shivering, the reality of actually being snowed in setting in at last. The fireplace is roaring, the sound a nice background to his crisis.

Yangyang gives him a long look. He settles on the couch with one of the blankets, patting the space next to him. “I’m kinda tired, wanna take a nap?”

It’s enough to make Donghyuck snap out of it, following Yangyang’s hand on instinct. “Didn’t peg you for a cuddler.”

“I’m full of surprises,” Yangyang laughs. He gently pushes at Donghyuck’s shoulder, bringing him closer once they’re both laying on the couch. It’s a tight fit and for a second, Donghyuck panics about just falling off, but Yangyang’s hand around his waist tightens. He throws a leg over Donghyuck’s as well. A little more shuffling and the blanket is on top of them both. It feels nice. They’re quiet for a few moments, Donghyuck just watching the fire. Again, it’s Yangyang who breaks the silence. “You’ll tell me if any of this is making you uncomfortable, right?”

“You keep me warm.” Donghyuck huffs. “I enjoy being warm.”

Yangyang’s arm tightens a tad bit further. Donghyuck can almost feel his heartbeat. “Still, promise?”

“Promise,” Donghyuck mutters, for once leaving the sarcasm out of his words.

*

They move from the couch at some point but Donghyuck is too sleepy and warm for proper thought process, so he just drags Yangyang to his own bed as well. Sharing warmth seems like the sensible thing and even through his sleep haze, Donghyuck knows the sheets on his bed will be horribly cold.

Yangyang isn’t there when Donghyuck wakes up. Just as well, because he does so with a vision: Him and Yangyang in the kitchen, sun streaming through the windows, Donghyuck pressed into one of the counters. They’re kissing. Yangyang has a baby pink sweater on, hair mussed up like he’s just woken up.

Donghyuck blinks his eyes open in the present, a furious blush on his cheeks. He’s never really looked at Yangyang past the  _ all my friends are attractive and my life is hell _ melodrama but that seems to be changing rather quickly, now that the image of them kissing is burned behind his eyelids.

He wonders if it’s Yangyang’s or his own decisions that changed.

*

Yangyang is wearing that exact sweater when Donghyuck shuffles downstairs and his heart almost stops. The whole morning he’s jittery, alternating between spending too much time in the kitchen and avoiding it at all costs. Yangyang gives him funny looks but doesn’t comment on it, thankfully. The electricity goes out for a few hours in the afternoon and they get the candles ready, just in case.

Noon comes and goes and nothing has happened. Donghyuck doesn’t know if he’s relieved or disappointed.

*

It seems cuddling has now become their thing because that’s how they spend the afternoon - wrapped in a blanket on the couch, talking about home and the snow and the maple taffies which apparently they’re trying tomorrow morning. It feels like a few minutes before the sun is setting again and Donghyuck goes in search of the cans he brought in because the electricity isn’t back yet and none of them thought to take care of food while the sun was still up.

Yangyang looks a little ethereal in the candlelight.

Donghyuck doesn’t question it when Yangyang follows him to bed again and for a brief moment, wonders what he’ll see when he wakes up.

*

It’s nothing. Yangyang drags him out of bed at 8AM, already dressed and grinning. It’s a green sweatshirt today and the spike of disappointment is too quick for Donghyuck to push down.

“This is a terrible breakfast idea,” he mutters a bit later, as he watches Yangyang stir the maple syrup over the fireplace. It bubbles up faster than he can stir it and it has to be pulled back from the fire every few minutes. “Scratch that, this is a terrible idea period.”

“That’s not what you’ll be saying in a few minutes,” Yangyang grins. “Snow?”

Donghyuck dutifully brings back the tray of snow he’d gathered earlier inside. They never bothered to shovel any snow so gathering it was a bit of an adventure. The snow outside is almost as tall as Donghyuck now.

Yangyang looks a bit like a mad scientist as he pours the maple syrup. It’s adorable.

They fail tragically with the first few, the maple syrup hardening before they can really roll it up. Donghyuck’s fingers are sticky by the time they do make a successful one and he just knows his teeth will hate him later, too.

He has a stick of hardened maple syrup hanging from his mouth when Yangyang cups his cheek and pulls the candy off. He leans in, so slow Donghyuck is half-convinced the world suddenly went slow motion.

Yangyang is still wearing the green sweatshirt. Donghyuck never saw a glimpse of this and yet here they are, kissing.

Yangyang is the one to pull away, too. He won’t meet Donghyuck’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it like this, you were just so-”

“Hey,” Donghyuck interrupts. There’s giddy laughter bubbling inside him but laughing would be a terrible idea right now. “I promised I’d tell you if I was ever uncomfortable, didn’t I?”

Finally, Yangyang looks up again. His eyes are impossibly soft but the quirk of his lips is one Donghyuck has long since learned to recognize as  _ nothing good. _ He decides another kiss is in order before Yangyang says something dumb and ruins the moment.

*

The kiss in the kitchen, the one with the pink sweater, happens too. What Donghyuck didn’t see in the vision is Jeno and Jaemin barging in five minutes later, followed by a screech that will probably haunt Donghyuck’s nightmares for the next month at  _ least. _


	21. antique (mark/lucas)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 10 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “Listen, I can’t explain it, you’ll have to trust me.”  
[00fftober day twenty-one thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1185933692381757440), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day21](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY21?src=hashtag_click&f=live)  
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

Honestly, Mark has a hard time keeping track of the conversation. Yukhei invited him for movies and they’re now discussing the third version of some action flick Mark can’t confidently say the name of. Yukhei is still at work, so Mark tries to not stare by distracting himself with a pretty, ornamented mirror. It looks actually old, not faked like a lot of the items Yukhei’s boss likes to pass off as  _ antique. _

Yukhei laughs, though, loud and booming and beautiful and Mark wonders what it says about him that for a moment, he wouldn’t even be able to say his own name if asked.

_ It means whipped, _ something that sounds suspiciously a lot like Donghyuck’s voice says in his head. Mark startles, the pretty old mirror he’s holding slipping away. As if in slow motion, Yukhei’s laughter halts and for a split second, Mark glances to see his face twisted with worry. He dives down, hands splayed out. Mark scrambles to try and catch the mirror too but it’s too late. He closes his eyes, already trying to imagine how bad this would kick his bank account.

The crash never comes. Mark opens eyes to find Yukhei holding the mirror, relieved. 

And then the pain comes.

*

“Okay, so,” Yukhei starts, slowly letting go of Mark’s hand. It takes a second but sure enough, both of them yelp out at the same time, right before Yukhei’s hand is clasped into Mark’s again. “It’s fine when we’re touching, not so fine when we’re apart. Right?”

Mark nods. The pain is sharp and localized, a little like being pinched in the side. It’s also incredibly inconvenient. Mark’s mind is already racing. He’s off today but tomorrow is Monday and he’s working and his work place is on the other end of town. He can’t drag Yukhei around everywhere and even if he could Yukhei is working too and… Oh god, what if he had to  _ pee? _

Yukhei shakes their clasped hands, effectively cutting off Mark’s budding panic. “I think it’s the mirror. It has to be, it started happening right after. We can’t stay like this.”

“No shit,” Mark mumbles. Yukhei gives his wrist a gentle squeeze.

“I… know a guy,” he says carefully, avoiding Mark’s eyes. It’s a little odd, given how easy going he is usually. “He’s good at this type of stuff. He could probably help us.”

Frankly, Mark doesn’t want to see a guy. If he’s learned something from all the romcoms Donghyuck forced him through when they were dating, it’s that if something wacky happens to your body the most likely cure is a kiss. For a brief second, he imagines himself forming the words out loud.

“Uh, what kind of guy?” Is what comes out of his mouth instead.

Yukhei opens his mouth, then closes it. His expression changes from determined, to confused, to desperate. It’s fascinating. “Listen, I can’t explain it, you’ll have to trust me.”

Mark doesn’t want to. Really. Yukhei is adorable and devastatingly hot and nice, on top of that but _ I know a guy _ should ring all the warning bells no matter whose mouth it comes from. And yet, Mark, rational, practical Mark, grips Yukhei’s hand tighter (just in case, the pinch really hurts) and sets off in search of this guy.

*

The guy turns out to be a lanky boy about the same height as Mark and a grin infuriating enough to rival Donghyuck’s. Mark finds himself weirdly fascinated.

He introduces himself as Jaemin and it strikes Mark as oddly normal, given how they’re currently sitting on red, plush cushions in a small tent set up in someone’s (presumably Jaemin’s parents’) living room.

“The good news,” Jaemin says, still grinning, “is that you’re not cursed. Your mirror is haunted, though, and your new friend thinks you’re both dumbasses.”

Mark sputters. “What-”

“He says,” Jaemin interrupts, gesturing at Mark, “that you’ve been making heart eyes at this one, for weeks now. He’s tired of it.”

Mark feels like a teenager again. In third grade, being exposed to his crush and everyone laughing at him and…

Jaemin taps at his knee, a gentle smile replacing the grin this time. “It’s okay, your ghost says he’s just as bad.”

“Okay!” Yukhei exclaims, a little too loud. “So this ghost is punishing us? For annoying him?” At Jaemin’s nod, he continues. “Okay then, what do we do to make it stop?”

That infuriating grin is right back on Jaemin’s face. “Kiss.”

*

“That’s dumb,” Mark says as soon as they exit Jaemin’s house. “Why would we have to kiss to break it? And for a  _ ghost’s  _ entertainment?”

“We get violently pinched each time we’re more than a centimeter apart and the ghost part is what you’re questioning?”

Yukhei is right. They’d determined now that the pain is most likely, indeed, caused by violent pinches. Courtesy of the ghost. It’s all so surreal Mark wonders when he’ll wake up.

But he doesn’t. 

In the end, it’s the bathroom experience that breaks him. He firmly refuses to keep touching Yukhei while he’s peeing which means the pinches are constant, sharp and awfully painful. Mark isn’t sure what’s more distressing - the pain or the fact that some dead guy is making his life miserable  _ and  _ watching him pee.

“Okay,” he says once he’s out and he’s washed his hands (for that, at least, the pinching had ceased). “Let’s kiss.”

Yukhei purses his lips, his earlier bravado nowhere to be seen. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to be forcing you into something you don’t want to do.”

“Uh.” It’s now or never, Mark Lee. Time to grow the fuck up. “I kind of want to do it? Have been for a while, actually. But it’s perfectly fine if you don’t feel the same way!” He hurries to add, because Yukhei is doing the five expressions per second challenge and Mark is struggling to keep up.

He finally settles on sheepish. “I, uh. I don’t think this will be a problem.”

Oh.

*

So they kiss. It’s kind of anticlimactic, if Mark’s being honest but Yukhei’s hands feel nice on his waist and they have all the time in the world to explore the joys of kissing. In fact, they seem to explore them a little too much right now, because after a few minutes, a copper pot clatters to the ground all of a sudden, kicked off a shelf which was definitely not unstable enough to make it fall by accident.

They jump apart and Yukhei hurries to put the pot back on the shelf. The moment is ruined, much to Mark’s disappointment.

But it’s fine. They’ll have so many other moments.

*

They end up giving the haunted mirror to Jaemin because the ghost keeps interrupting their makeout sessions while they’re in the store and honestly, Mark is tired.

Jaemin seems a little too happy to accept it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> renjun is the ghost


	22. dream (renjun/jisung)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 29 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “I’m doing this for you.”  
not like anyone but me cares, but im no longer randomizing the fictober prompts sigh. we're more than 2/3rds in i can have the joy of picking dialogue
> 
> [00fftober day twenty-two thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1186296082554216453), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day22](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY22?src=hashtag_click&f=live)   
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

Jisung has been dreaming of the same boy for the past three years. 

Ever since he turned fifteen he’s been waking up in this cute clearing, rocks scattered around and small river running along one side. There’s even a waterfall a little upstream.

The first time he woke up in dreamspace, as he’s come to call it, was at the night of his fifteenth birthday. He’d spent he spent a few minutes wandering at the edge of the woods, somewhat apprehensive of the clearing for some reason. The whole place was oddly lit, like they were in a studio instead of a real clearing and the lighting wasn’t working properly. It’s still like this, three years later.

He didn’t meet the boy that first time but when Jisung woke up in dreamspace next, he was there.

*

He doesn’t know the boy’s name. They learned pretty quickly that sharing personal details, name included, kicks you out of the dream. One too many times, Jisung has attempted to say his name, only to startle awake in the dark of his own room. It’s never easy to fall back asleep after that and he never reaches dreamspace the second time.

So he may not know the boy’s name but he knows a whole world of little details about him. His boy doesn’t have the best temper and his friends enjoy annoying him to no end. He likes to draw, thinks about pursuing it as a career. He speaks two languages and doesn’t enjoy being touched all that much but would still let Jisung use his lap as a pillow sometimes. He’d thread his fingers through Jisung’s hair too, which is how Jisung learned that falling asleep in dreamland meant waking up in real life.

For three years, Jisung spends his days thinking about sleep. Hoping he’d get to see his boy this time.

For three years, he does.

*

As Jisung walks down with his high school diploma in hand, he can’t stop thinking about how he’ll get to go home tonight and tell his dream boy all about it.

“Hey,” a voice calls, halting Jisung’s thoughts. It’s a girl from his class, Yeojin, and her skirt swishes around in the breeze. Abruptly, Jisung realizes that while they’ve been classmates for the entirety of Jisung’s school life, he knows next to nothing about her. “I was wondering,” Yeojin starts, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you wanna hang out sometime? Maybe get coffee?”

She keeps trying to tuck that strand of hair, even if it’s not falling over her face anymore. There’s a rosy dusting on her cheeks and she’s really pretty like this, shy but determined. Jisung almost says yes, sure, I’d love to, before the face of his dream boy floats back into his mind, chasing away all other thoughts.

“Ah, sorry,” he says, trying for gentle but ending somewhere around awkward instead. “I think I’ll be really busy this summer?”

Yeojin flushes but nods, forcing a smile. She hurries back to her friends and Jisung feels terrible, even more so when the friends in question all turn to glare at him. He goes in search of his parents instead, anxious to get home already.

*

Jisung has his head in dream boy’s lap as he retells the story. He can see dream boy’s frown clearly, even if it’s upside down.

“Did you say no because of me?” he asks and Jisung thinks he knows how Yeojin felt now.

“No.” He makes sure his voice is as sincere as possible but it doesn’t seem like dream boy believes him much. “Okay, a little,” he amends in the end. “You popped into my mind when she asked and I didn’t think it would be fair to her.”

“I see,” dream boy says, still frowning. He cards his fingers through Jisung’s hair one last time. “I need to go for a bit, is that okay?”

Jisung straightens up. He doesn’t really want to go but he can’t force dream boy to stay either. He waves goodbye, right as dream boy says, “My name is-”

He doesn’t even get to the first letter before he disappears. Jisung looks around the empty clearing. It’s never fun being here alone, he’d had the pleasure of doing that the few times they’d experimented with what can and can’t kick them out of the dream. Saying names - whether their own, their friends’, the street or city or country they live in. Most of the times when Jisung was the one that remained, however, were the ones they tested writing them down. Dream boy barely got to the end of the first line of the character before he fizzled out of dreamspace.

Right now, Jisung considers writing his own name in the grass. It’ll kick him out and he’ll dream of something normal when he falls asleep again. Maybe not dream at all.

In the end, he lays back in the grass, listening to the waterfall. He’ll wake up in the real world eventually anyway.

*

Dream boy doesn’t show up again. At first, Jisung thinks their sleeping schedules have just changed. They’ll meet at some point. 

They don’t.

He must visit, though, because Jisung can see the scratches in the grass, in a few of the trees at the edge of the forest. They look like someone tried to carve something in but disappeared befoe they can finish it.

It takes weeks before Jisungs manages to catch dream boy there. It’s not by choice either.

“We can’t be here,” dream boy says, trying and failing to extract his wrist from Jisung’s grip.

Jisung swallows around the hurt. “We can, we were here so many times already-”

“Exactly!” Dream boy exclaims, “You can’t miss out on real life because of this. We don’t even know if we’ll ever meet outside this stupid clearing.”

It stings. A distant, rational part of Jisung sees the logic in this but his heart refuses to listen. “This is not your choice to make,” he says slowly. 

Slow, even. If he lets emotions bleed into his voice he might cry for the first time here, in this dream land.

“I’m sorry. I hope we get to meet some day and that you won’t hate me too much.” Dream boy’s voice is impossibly kind, gentle, like the softest blanket lined with ice. “I’m doing this for you. My name is-”

Jisung’s fingers flutter closed, grasping at air.

He doesn’t stay this time.

*

Life goes on. It hurts like hell in the first few months, a little less after that. Jisung starts leaving his own carvings in the trees around the clearing. He wakes up in dreamspace less and less. It never truly stops but once or twice a month is one hell of a difference to every other day.

He gets a boyfriend a year later. His name is Chenle and he’s annoyingly smug all the time but he makes Jisung feels good most of the time. Kissing him is nice too.

They break up three months after that. 

“It just doesn’t work,” Chenle says one night and Jisung wonders if he should feel something more about being dumped. Maybe that’s what Chenle meant in the first place.

They stay friends because Chenle is great but also an asshole and he enjoys making Jisung’s life hell. 

In the end, Chenle is the reason he does meet dream boy, awake.

*

Jisung is supposed to meet a guy named Renjun today, supposedly Chenle’s best friend, fresh off the plane from Beijing. Chenle is running late, though, so now Jisung is given the task to get into the coffee shop they’re supposed to meet up at and entertain Renjun until Chenle shows up.

Chenle texts him a picture Renjun sent him, of the corner of the coffee shop he’s at.

It proves useless. Jisung’s eyes find him like a magnet within a second of walking in. It’s hard to miss a face you’ve spent three years memorizing.

“It’s you,” Jisung says instead of a hello. It’s probably rude, Chenle said Renjun is older than both of them, but right at this moment he couldn’t care less.

“It’s me,” is the only reply, a little awed. A little apprehensive. He reaches out, tracing Jisung’s sleeve with a finger. “I’m awake.” He smiles, small and tentative. “My name is...”

Jisung closes his eyes. He can’t help it, those exact words have haunted his nightmares for so long now. He can still feel Renjun’s fingers on his arm.

“...Renjun. My name is Renjun.”

Jisung’s eyes snap open. Renjun is still there, both of them are. There are no trees and no grass and no odd lighting. No sound of running water. Renjun seems to be waiting for him.

“Jisung.” He doesn’t disappear this time either. 

Renjun isn’t smiling, not really, but he looks like he wants to. Jisung thinks about all the times he’s imagined yelling at him. For just leaving him, for giving up, for not giving him a choice.

None of that feels right now. Maybe later. Right now, what this feels like is a beginning.


	23. tomb/graveyard (yangyang/jaemin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 16 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “Listen. No, really listen.”  
based on my favorite book. i love neil gaiman to death.
> 
> [00fftober day twenty-three thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1186669288892989440), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day23](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY23?src=hashtag_click&f=live)   
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

“Are you sure this is safe?” Jaemin asks, eyeing the tombstones as they pass them by. There’s a double one that catches his eye, reading Mr and Mrs Liu. Yangyang slows as they pass it and Jaemin wonders if he should say something. The tombstone looks really old though, and Yangyang already told him this is an old graveyard, all the people resting here are at least two hundred years old.

It doesn’t make it any less creepy, though.

“Of course it’s safe,” Yangyang smiles. His eyes always sparkle when he’s playing tricks on Jaemin and they’re not sparkling now so he’s willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Even if they’re walking through an ancient graveyard just after sunset. “Look,” Yangyang sighs, lacing his fingers with Jaemin’s. “I know this is a little weird but I grew up here.” He gestures at the graveyard at large. “These people are like my family.” 

Jaemin can’t help but notice his hand ends up pointing at the Liu tombstone.

*

Growing up as the son of a graveyard keeper isn’t the worst origin story Jaemin can imagine. Hell, Yangyang is kinder, funnier, and overall a better human being than most of the people Jaemin has dated before and all of them had normal, boring backgrounds.

Still, it had taken quite a while for Yangyang to get to a point where he’s comfortable sharing his story and even more to invite Jaemin over to meet his guardian. He never called him dad and with the way Yangyang spoke of him, he sounded more like a cool uncle than anything. Still, he is the only family Yangyang have and Jaemin was appropriately excited at the idea of meeting him. 

He would’ve appreciated a heads up that the guy still lived in the graveyard, though.

Now, walking through all the tombstones the unsettling feeling is slowly being replaced by something else: Yangyang grew up here. He grew up here and all the friends he had were tombstones of people dead for hundreds of years. 

“I can hear you thinking,” Yangyang laughs. His hand squeezes Jaemin’s for a fraction of a second. “I wasn’t lonely here. I had Kun and I had fun, lots of it.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaemin mutters. He’s no better than those stupid, judgy kids in middle school Yangyang has told him about.

Yangyang shrugs. “It’s fine, I get it. Anyway,” they’ve stopped at yet another gravestone. This one is a little off to the side compared to the rest. It’s like… it’s in the graveyard, but it’s not. “This is someone very special to me,” Yangyang says. Jaemin can hear the smile in his voice.

The tombstone looks newer than the rest, but Jaemin can’t make the words out from this distance. “Tell me about them?”

“Legend says he was a witch some five hundred years ago,” Yangyang starts, voice faraway. “They killed him because of it, even though he didn’t do harm to anyone. The graveyard is sacred ground, which is why he’s buried just outside. He didn’t have a tombstone, either. It was the first thing I saved up for when I got a job.”

There’s a swoosh of wind, the sound of crunching leaves. Jaemin startles, looking around. There’s no one around.

“Did you hear that?” He asks, puzzled, but Yangyang only laughs.

“I didn’t hear anything. Is the graveyard too much for you Jaeminnie?”

“I...” Jaemin huffs, ready to retort because fuck you, Yangyang. And the crunching starts again, louder, closer this time. It sounds like footsteps somewhere beyond the lone gravestone but no matter how much Jaemin squints, there’s no one there. “Listen. No, really listen.”

“I’m listening, Jaemin.” Yangyang sighs, exasperated, except he’s not looking at Jaemin. “It sounds like someone is playing a prank and they should maybe tone it down.”

There’s another gust of wind but the crunching doesn’t start again. Jaemin grips Yangyang’s hand tighter, just in case. “Maybe we should head back?”

Yangyang stares at the stone for a bit longer, then turns to Jaemin again, “Yeah, probably. Kun should be ready with dinner already.”

Jaemin follows his line of sight, even if it sends shivers down his spine. “It was really nice, what you did for him. The witch, I mean.”

Finally, they head back to the house at the entrance, where it would be nice and lit and not creepy. Yangyang glances back one last time. “I’d like to think he considers it that too.” 

When Jaemin glances back as well, there’s a faint outline of a boy swinging his legs from the witch’s tombstone. The outline is glowing a little and it almost look like the boy is there, and he’s smiling. Jaemin closes his eyes, fighting the fear creeping up his spine but when he opens them again, there’s no outline, no boy. The lamp at the end of the alley is glowing softly, light just barely reaching the witch tombstone.

Yanyang tugs at his hand and Jaemin faces the house again. They’ve almost reached it already. Kun is waiting for them at the front steps, too.

Jaemin is so ready to return to the world of the living and bright, artificial lighting.


	24. plant (jeno/yeeun)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 19 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “Yes, I admit it, you were right.”  
[00fftober day twenty-four thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1187028578719780866), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day24](https://twitter.com/search?q=%2300FFTOBER_DAY24&src=typed_query&f=live)  
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

The instructions were clear: take the 718 bus up to the last stop. The park will be just to the side and the rest of the group will be around somewhere. They’re supposed to be planting trees - an event organized and sponsored by the university in an attempt to get some good PR. Rumor has it the number of applications drop with each year and the dean seems desperate to try and save it.

Jeno was perfectly content to just  _ follow the instructions _ because he’s going to be taking the 718 bus from campus anyway. But then,  _ then.  _ Then Jang Yeeun happened.

He’d promised an old classmate to go with her because a friendly face couldn’t hurt. He really wonders just why Eunbin wanted company in the first place, though. The same evening they made plans Eunbin texted him she’s actually taking a friend of hers too and the evening after - that  _ oh, sorry, I can’t actually go but please don’t ditch Yeeun she’ll hate me if she has to go alone. You need more friends anyway _

The message was followed by a phone number and another  _ please! _ and... Jeno was always a bit of a pushover.

*

It takes a bit of time to work up the courage to talk to a virtual stranger but after the eleventh draft, Jeno is somewhat okay with how the text looks like.

_ hey! it’s jeno, eunbin’s classmate? she said she’s not going but you still wanted to, where did you wanna meet up? _

When the check appears, marking the message as sent, Jeno forces himself to reread it. And promptly regrets his existence. Eunbin said? A normal person would reconfirm first. Oh god, what if Yeeun doesn’t want to go with him? He’s seen her around, she seems nice but also really pretty, what would she want to do with some random freshman, what if-

_ hi _

_ yeah, i do. wanna meet up at the bus stop next to that huge hospital? it’s on 718’s route, we can walk from there _

They can also simply take the bus which Jeno will be riding anyway. It feels a little dumb but Yeeun seems nice and she didn’t chew him out for that awful message and… Ah well. They’ll get there one way or another.

*

They’ve been walking for about five minutes and already, Jeno is not so sure they’ll get anywhere. The streets are unfamiliar and the stops are too and it occurs to him that he doesn't actually know  _ where  _ the last stop of 718 even is. In his defence, he did try to get Yeeun to take the bus.

“I live nearby,” she had said. “It would be faster if we walked, really.”

Right now, as Jeno watches the 718 bus he just got off of disappear into the distance, he can’t help but wonder. Would it?

*

“I think the bus goes in that direction,” Yeeun says, pointing ahead. “We should head that way.”

Jeno is pretty sure he saw the bus take the turn they’re currently passing by but in the end, Yeeun is older. She’s lived here longer and she lives close. He trusts her.

(It’s a lie. He absolutely doesn’t but Yeeun is nice to talk to and really pretty when she smiles and Jeno may or may not be finding himself a little smitten.)

They walk another fifteen minutes or so before Jeno gives up. “I really don’t think this is the right direction.”

Yeeun startles. “What do you mean?”

“I just,” how does one say it without sounding like an asshole? Jeno kind of wishes they kept walking now. “We haven’t seen any 718 busses for a while now?

“Oh,” Yeeun breathes. “Right.”

They stay in the same place for a few long, awkward moments. Jeno is about to apologize when Yeeun huffs, then drops her head backwards. “I told Eunbin this is a terrible idea. I’m terrible at basic human interaction. And directions, apparently.”

Jeno blinks, trying to process the outburst. “You’re better than I am at basic human interaction, if it makes you feel better?” She glances at him, a smile tugging at her lips. It gives Jeno the courage to soldier on. “What do you mean you told Eunbin?”

“Oh.” Yeeun’s carefree smile is quickly replaced by pure dread. “Um. She set us up? I thought you figured it out?”

Well. He probably _ should have.  _ “I… no. I hadn’t.”

“I’m so sorry,” Yeeun says, all in one breath. “I’m so, so sorry I didn’t mean to force you out on a date. Which is not actually a date? I’m sorry, I’m going to kill Eunbin, I said you’re cute once and she got it in her head she has to set us up but-”

“Wait, wait,” Jeno interrupts, hand on her shoulder. It works, Yeeun’s ramblings stumbling to a halt. “You said I was cute?”

Yeeun stares a beat longer, then bursts out laughing. “This is what you got from the whole tirade?”

“I mean,” he tries. And wow, words. Girls. Uni life sure is moving fast. “It’s kind of mutual?”

“Oh god, this is so embarrassing,” Yeeun whines, face in her palms now. She peeks at Jeno between her fingers. “Wanna ditch the tree planting and go get coffee?”

“Cute,” Jeno mutters, not really thinking. When the words (and Yeeun’s expression) catch up to him, he hurries to add, “not much of a coffee fan but I’d love a hot chocolate? On one condition, though.”

Yeeun narrows her eyes. “What?”

“Admit we should’ve taken the bus.” This. This is where Jeno might have really pushed it. Yeeun’s eyes narrow further.

And then, “Fine. Yes, I admit it, you were right. Can we get back to civilization now?”

Jeno is sure she’s attempting a frown except the final product looks a lot like a pout.. It’s ridiculous. It’s adorable. Jeno is definitely smitten.

“Sure,” he laughs, hoping the revelation doesn’t show on his face. “I’m leading this time, though.”

Yeeun does roll her eyes but she doesn’t protest.

(Until they get lost again.)


	25. spirited away (jeno/chenle)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 4 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “I know you didn’t ask for this.”  
im gonna say it now the only ghibli movie i've seen is howl's moving castle and this is based on what wikipedia provided for 'spirit away'
> 
> [00fftober day twenty-five thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1187383242753740800), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day25](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY25?src=hashtag_click&f=live)   
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

When Jeno blinks his eyes open, he finds out he’s floating.

There are little swirls of clouds around him, everything so bright it should be blinding. But Jeno has been here already and his eyes adjust in no time. He stands up, even if there’s not really a ground for him to stand on. He got the hang of floating around the third time he woke up here.

He looks around and, sure enough, there’s a shadow looping around one of the clouds. Jeno sighs. 

“Chenle,” he says slowly. Talking to a shadow never gets any less weird. “You can’t just take me away whenever you feel like.”

The shadow moves and eventually, Chenle, in human form, materializes in its place.

“But I missed you,” he frowns. “That’s a good enough reason.”

Jeno sighs. He hates this, having to be the bigger person in a relationship. Responsibility is awful and he wants a refund. But then again, it’s all his fault for agreeing to date a literal god with a penchant for stealing him into the spirit world every other day.

Scratch that. It’s all Chenle’s fault because he’s cute, especially like this. Frowning and doing a terrible job at hiding the underlying guilt in his eyes.

Jeno sighs again. “It is a good enough reason. But you and I both know I don’t belong here and it takes a toll each time.”

Chenle won’t meet his eyes. He’s staring at another cloud, far away. “I know you didn’t ask for this.”

He doesn’t say anything after that. Just like with the shadows, this conversation is not something Jeno will ever get used to.

But he tries anyway. Each time. “Hey, hey,” Jeno says, floating closer, wrapping his fingers around Chenle’s. He’s not exactly shy with physical contact but more often than not it’s Chenle that initiates it. This is yet another thing Jeno has yet to get used to. He swallows around the lump in his throat. “I knew what I was getting into, didn’t I? You weren’t exactly shy with the whole I’m-a-god thing.”

That manages to break the tension, finally. “Well, I am a god.”

Jeno nods. “A very young one, with questionable decision making skills.”

“Hey,” Chenle says, pulling his hand away. “I can literally throw you off the sky.”

“After all the trouble you go through to get me here in the first place?” Jeno laughs. “Sure.”

Chenle stomps off, mumbling something along the lines of  _ Stupid humans. _ It’s quite a ridiculous sight, considering he doesn’t exactly have a ground to step on.

Jeno doesn’t follow after him. He gets lost easily around here and history shows that it’s better for him to just stay in one place. Chenle will come back eventually anyway.

*

He does. It takes approximately five minutes and five more until they’re cuddled together. Chenle maintains the longsuffering expression but Jeno knows that deep down, he enjoys this as much as Jeno does. He’s the one that keeps bringing him here after all.

“You know,” Jeno says when their conversation trails off into silence. “You could come visit more often, too. You can pass off as a human quite well. And your body doesn’t hate you afterwards.”

Chenle’s fingers, previously tracing loose circles on Jeno’s shoulder halt. “I’ve never been down there for more than a few hours at a time.”

Jeno shrugs. “No time like the present?”

He doesn’t get a reply but soon enough, Chenle’s tracing circles again and Jeno forgets what the conversation was even about.

*

He’s reminded, abruptly, when Chenle appears at his doorstep,  _ on Earth, _ in fully human form. And two giant suitcases in each hand.

“I decided to take your advice,” Chenle chirps, dragging each of his suitcases into Jeno’s tiny apartment. “Earth is indeed more convenient and the other gods keep telling me more interaction with humans might do good for my personality. Whatever that means.”

“So let me get this straight,” Jeno says, staring at the swirly God is love sticker slapped on the suitcase. He looks up to meet Chenle’s eyes. “You’re moving in?”

“Yup.” Chenle looks around critically ditching his suitcases in the middle of the living room. “For the time being at least. Damn, your place needs redecoration.”

Jeno rubs at his eyes but the image of Chenle eyeing the ugly painting Donghyuck got him for Christmas doesn’t disappear. He knows, logically, that this will bring him an unfortunate headache in the very near future. 

Right now now, though? He’s finding it hard to fight the stupid, giddy smile on his face. By the knowing look Chenle gives him, it’s a useless fight anyway.


	26. seance/ritual (hyuck/lucas)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 12 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “What if I don’t see it?”  
same au as [day 10: reincarnation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20835191/chapters/49890422)
> 
> [00fftober day twenty-six thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1187746352572309504), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day26](https://twitter.com/search?q=%2300FFTOBER_DAY26&src=typed_query&f=live)   
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

Honestly, after the disaster that was Donghyuck’s first solo session, he’s not sure why his mom even lets him into the shop.

Past lives, even fragmented, are too harsh of a knowledge for regular humans. It’s one of the first things you learn when figuring out how to control your gift and his mom never lets him forget it. That time, with the kid? Control is not something that Donghyuck had. He could feel his powers fill up the room and swallow the kid like a starved animal. To this day, Donghyuck thanks the heavens that he’s as good as he is at the protective potion accompanying each induced vision. If he wasn’t, if the kid hadn’t been as strong-willed as he was, who knows if he would’ve even woken up.

Donghyuck likes to think he’s grown, learned from the incident. It certainly feels like it, even if it all happened barely over a year ago. He’d been a fool then, expecting to be able to hide it from his mom altogether. She’d taken one look at the room, felt the residual power, then forced him to tell her everything. He was grounded and she was disappointed but in the end, no one got hurt so the only real repercussion was doubling down on his lessons in control.

It’s barely over a year but Donghyuck has improved so much that his mom has started to let him have his own solo sessions now. She focuses on other parts of the business and Donghyuck handles the shop for the most part. It’s a miracle what the crippling fear that you just ruined someone’s life would do to you.

All in all, things are going great. Until Wong Yukhei shows up.

*

It’s a nice afternoon outside which means the shop is going slow. They’re not exactly bursting with clients on most days but the sun tends to make people a lot more interested in the present, rather than the future. Or past.

Donghyuck hasn’t had a client for a few hours now and it’s well into the afternoon already. He feels it’s completely justified that he has a cup of tea brewed, legs propped on the edge of the table and scrolling through his phone. 

At 6:06PM exactly, someone knocks on the door. Donghyuck only notes the time because he was watching the clock already, wondering how early he can get away with locking up.

Not early enough. He sighs, then goes to open the door.

The guy on the other side… is nothing short of breathtaking. He looks like someone who just stepped off a magazine cover, dark hair and an open, confused expression. Confusion isn’t that uncommon, especially with first timers and Donghyuck is pretty sure he would’ve remembered this one if he saw him before.

The stranger smiles, sheepish. “Hey, I was… looking for someone named Haechan?”

Donghyuck blinks, fighting the surprise off his expression. Usually people ask after his mom - him being a regular occurence in the shop is a recent thing. People don’t _ know _him.

“That would be me,” he says a beat too late. “Can I ask who told you about me?”

“Ah,” the guy rubs at his neck, eyes shifting everywhere but on Donghyuck. “A friend? He said he took his boyfriend to you, well, they weren’t boyfriends at the time but… He’s kinda convinced something you did was the cause of them getting together?”

Donghyuck definitely doesn’t remember any love issues in the past few weeks but ah well. It’s a client.

He nods. “What can I do for you then?”

“I uh,” the stranger stutters, then purses his lips. “I was hoping you’d help me find my… true love? Or whatever?”

“True love,” Donghyuck repeats evenly. He doesn’t mean to sound as condescending as he does but this particular request is among the ones he hates most. Love is such a complicated emotion, trying to channel it all onto a single human being is just ridiculous.

“I know it’s dumb,” the guy defends halfheartedly. “But I’m kinda curious? And a little lonely? Isn’t your job like, not to judge me?”

Donghyuck scoffs. “I’m not your therapist. Okay, big boy, let’s find your soulmate. What’s your name?”

“Yukhei,” the guy, no Yukhei, mutters. He seems embarrassed and Donghyuck almost feels bad about his outburst. But then he remembers it’s romantic bullshit he’ll be looking at and suddenly he doesn’t feel bad at all.

*

The thing is, while love is extremely complicated, finding the person meant for you is rather easy. The way Donghyuck’s gift works is that the client will get glimpses of their future partner’s life, whether past or future. Then Donghyuck has to hear all about them so he can help with interpretation and for the most part his clients can leave with renewed hope that there’s someone out there, waiting for them.

In their wake, Donghyuck is reminded of just how lonely a life like his can be. People rarely ever take fortune tellers seriously and for the majority of his life, his only friend was his mom. On top of that, Yukhei is gorgeous and from what Donghyuck can see, super nice as well. It’s only fair, he thinks, to feel a little petty.

“What if I don’t see it?” Yukhei asks after Donghyuck has explained everything. “What if there isn’t anyone, anything to see?”

Donghyuck waves him of. “We’ll cross that bridge if we get there. Now relax.”

Yukhei leans back in the chair, his head hanging back just like Donghyuck instructed. Donghyuck rubs a bit of his protective potion over his eyelids, then starts his preparation.

*

It feels different. Donghyuck has performed this exact ritual quite a few times before and the power running through him was always gentle, leading the client in the right direction. Now it feels like it’s pulling things out of Donghyuck, intense, rearranging his very heart. He wonders if all the training has failed him, if he’s about to make a second incident - but despite the intensity, it feels… nice, almost. Like a cup of tea that’s just a little too hot.

It feels like no time has passed at all before the energy in the room fizzles out and Yukhei blinks his eyes open. He looks content, a little sleepy - it’s adorable.

Donghyuck pushes the thought down. “What did you see?”

“A kid,” Yukhei mumbles. “I couldn’t see his face but he was with his mom and it was winter.” He pauses, trying to remember. “She had a fluffy red scarf with these huge blue flowers. I think the kid was carrying a kitten?”

With each word, dread settles in Donghyuck’s stomach. Past memories usually mean that the person is close to meeting their fate, maybe within a few months. What’s really bothering Donghyuck, however, is something else: he remembers this memory. He had a kitten and his mom was mad that he’d picked it up, even named it. It turned out Sparkles is great at helping Donghyuck with controlling his gift, though. They ended up keeping her and very soon, she became a part of the family. Sparkles died of old age, loved, but Donghyuck will never forget that winter evening, when she came home with them.

“I think they kept the kitty,” Yukhei says, breaking the silence.

Donghyuck startles, then goes about putting his herbs away. “Past memories usually mean you’ll meet your person soon,” he rattles off. “Maybe today, maybe a few months from now but soon.”

There’s silence, and when Donghyuck turns back, Yukhei’s expression seems torn. He meets Donghyuck’s eyes and seems to make up his mind.

“Do you...” he trails off, glancing away, then back at Donghyuck, full of determination. “Do you think if my person would mind if I went out with someone in the meantime?”

Of course. Of course even Donghyuck’s goddamn fated soulmate would want that, someone else. He takes a deep breath, trying his best to maintain a straight face. “Maybe-”

“I mean,” Yukhei interrupts. He seems eager to get the words out. “I know how this sounds but I… don’t think I’ll be able to get your voice out of my head? I don’t know how to explain it but I feel like I’d regret it if I just go out this door. Is it weird? Oh god it’s weird isn’t it?”

“It’s not,” Donghyuck says before Yukhei has time to work himself into a panic. “It’s not. I don’t mind.” Yukhei still looks conflicted so Donghyuck decides, fuck it. It’ll have to happen eventually. “That memory you saw? I think it might be… mine. We had a kitten, her name was Sparkles. I picked her up at kindergarten one day and she ended up becoming a part of our family.”

Yukhei watches him, quiet for a few long moments. “So you’re the boy. It’s today, not in a few months?”

“I guess?” Donghyuck mutters. He can feel his carefully crafted mask crack under Yukhei’s intense stare. 

Yukhei stays quiet for a bit more, then the most brilliant smile blooms on his lips. “Does that mean you’d go out with me?”

Just like that, the moment is broken and Donghyuck starts laughing. “This is so stupid. You’re supposed to visit a fortune teller to find the love of your life, not ask the fortune teller out.”

“Ah well,” Yukhei shrugs. “It just so happens that the love of my life apparently _ is _the fortune teller. So what do you say?”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. It’s a little hard to gain control of his emotions. Maybe he should’ve learned that too, along with controlling his gift. In the end, what he says is, “Shut up.”


	27. candy (jeno/jisung)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 20 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “You could talk about it, you know?"  
they kiss. so there's that. also mentions of jeno/doyoung
> 
> [00fftober day twenty-seven thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1188108021127245824), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day27](https://twitter.com/search?q=%2300FFTOBER_DAY27&src=typed_query&f=live)   
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

Jeno glances both ways, then snatches the bowl of candy his mom has prepared for Halloween. It’s not ice cream but it’s cold outside and inside isn’t much better. Jeno already sniffles in the mornings and more ice cream in his life would be playing with the devil at this point.

He really needs the comfort part of comfort food, though.

*

Jisung walks into his room about an hour later, unannounced as always. Being friends forever means Jeno’s parents have essentially adopted Jisung as well, the same with Jisung’s family too. Add to that Jeno being away for university all the time, the weekends he actually does visit home Jisung all but moves into his house.

He takes one look at Jeno and his bowl of candy and asks, “what did he do this time?”

Nothing. Kim Doyoung, Jeno’s unfortunate, out-of-his-league crush does nothing and that’s the whole issue. They’d met at Jeno’s first (and only) party in university, both drunk, giggly (Jeno), and bored (Doyoung). They’d hooked up there, too, and while Jeno regrets doing it intoxicated, he doesn’t quite regret doing it with Doyoung. Foolishly, he’d hoped it might lead to something else. Even drunk, Doyoung had been sweet and caring and gorgeous and Jeno might have some blank spots from that night but Doyoung he remembers in vivid detail.

That was almost two months ago.

Truth to be told, it seems Doyoung remembers too but pretends Jeno didn’t happen at all. Well, the hookup part at least. Doyoung still greets him whenever they run into each other and even treats him to coffee sometimes but always, always in the presence of others and always with this fond, brotherly expression Jeno absolutely  _ hates.  _

In the present, Jeno contemplates lying but the candy is half gone at this point. Jisung has long since learned all his signs.

“Nothing.” he ends up saying out loud. “That’s the problem. There’s a rumor he’s started dating someone, too.”

“Ah,” Jisung nods, flopping next to Jeno. He seems in a slightly better mood than he was when he came in. “I know I say this like, every time, but I think it’s time you try to get over him.”

The TV is on but muted and Jeno has been staring at the moving pictures for a while now. He peels a snickers and feeds it to Jisung without even looking. It results in his fingers catch on Jisung’s lips but it’s fine - it has happened a thousand times before.

“You have said it but it’s still not as easy as you make it sound,” Jeno sighs, digging into the candy bowl again. He’ll have to replace it eventually, preferably before his mom finds out. “It’s like he treats me as a kid, even though I’m not? Our age difference isn’t even that big.”

“Tell me about it,” Jisung mumbles, so low Jeno barely catches it. “Yours is kind of a big difference, though.”

“Not  _ that  _ big,” Jeno insists, resisting a pout. He fails. The Doyoung situation has been going on for so long even he has to admit it needs to stop but it’s so much easier said than done.

Silence takes over for a bit, Jisung watching the muted TV as well. And then, “You could talk about it, you know? With Doyoung. Clear the air, get some closure.”

Jeno snorts. “Right. Hey, we hooked up a few months ago and I’ve been drooling over you ever since, wanna make out? That would be one hell of a conversation. Thanks, but no thanks.”

“You know what?” Jisung asks, forcefully taking Jeno’s attention off the TV. “That’s actually a great idea. You need closure. Maybe make out with Doyoung sober, realize it’s not all unicorns and rainbows and get it over with.”

Jeno rolls his eyes. “If Doyoung was willing to kiss me sober we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.”

“No, but you can pretend?” Jisung’s eyes are burning with determination now and Jeno wonders just how invested he is in the whole forget-Doyoung business. “Like,” Jisung goes on, a little hesitant now. “You can make out with someone, close your eyes, imagine it’s Doyoung. Worst case scenario the experience will traumatize you enough to stop thinking about him.”

A terrible idea. Jeno already considers candidates.

*

“When I said  _ someone,” _ Jisung starts, eyes anywhere but on Jeno, “I didn’t mean  _ me.” _

Jeno shrugs. “Well, too bad. I don’t think I trust anyone back at uni enough to expose myself like this but you’re… well, you.”

“I’m me,” Jisung repeats, somewhat resigned. He meets Jeno’s eyes briefly, something unreadable in them. It’s weird, after so long Jeno thought he knows all of Jisung’s expressions. Jisung sighs. “Let’s get this over with.”

Jeno nods, closing his eyes. He covers them with his palm too, for good measure and tries his best to summon Doyoung’s face behind his eyelids as Jisung’s breathing gets closer and closer.

It works for about half a second. As soon as Jisung’s lips move against Jeno’s own the image of Doyoung shatters like a house of cards and try as he might, Jeno is unable to make it come back. Instead, he’s hyperaware that it’s  _ Jisung  _ he’s kissing and that it’s… kind of nice, actually. Jeno’s hand falls away from his eyes and he can’t help but press closer, card his fingers through Jisung’s hair. 

Jisung’s hands move to his shoulders and Jeno prepares to be pushed away, surely Jisung must have figured it out- but he just rests them there, fingers digging in Jeno’s skin every so often.

They break apart who knows how long later and Jeno feels dazed, slowly blinking his eyes open. Jisung is already staring at him, that same unreadable expression.

It lasts for a moment longer, before Jisung is smiling, a teasing glint in his eyes. “This Doyoung person must be one hell of a kisser.” 

Right. Doyoung. Jeno kind of forgot about him. “Yeah,” he laughs, awkward even to his own ears. But it’s okay. It’s Jisung. Who else can you be casually awkward with if not your best friend?

Jeno can feel his world chip away at the edges.

“Anyway,” Jisung chirps, disentangling himself from Jeno (they hadn’t even moved?) to stand up. “We have to replace all the candy you ate before your mom finds the bowl. Coming?” He offers Jeno a hand and Jeno takes it, because that’s what he always does.

It’s too easy to slip back into casual banter, pretend the last few minutes didn’t happen. 

But they did. The feeling of Jisung’s lips is burned into his brain forever now. Jeno has a sinking feeling instead of solving his Doyoung problem, he just replaced it with a much, much bigger one.


	28. urban legend (jaemin/lucas)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there's a ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 14 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “I can’t come back.”  
[00fftober day three thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1188470409097728001), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day28](https://twitter.com/search?q=%2300FFTOBER_DAY28&src=typed_query&f=live)  
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

Yukhei walks out of administration with his new dorm room’s number, feeling happy about himself. He managed to score a single this time and the lady sounded very sure no one is getting moved in there, even if the room itself can house two people.

“You absolute idiot,” Dejun mutters, eyes wide, as soon as he spots the room number. “This is the haunted room!”

Yukhei blinks at him. “The what?”

“Haunted room,” Jungwoo repeats, chin propped on his hands. He looks way too entertained by this. “There’s an urban legend that whoever stays in that room will go insane by the end of first semester. Each time they put someone in that room they start begging for a room change by the second week and if they fail, move out of campus altogether.”

Dejun nods, deadly serious. “I heard that the university got sick of losing students so they just stopped assigning the room.”

Yukhei contemplates this for a moment. “You two seem to believe this quite a lot.”

“Rumors,” Jungwoo shrugs, ignoring the look of betrayal Dejun is giving him. “Honestly, I’m kinda curious to see it for myself. Actually,” he corrects himself, along with a sweet, sweet smile which Yukhei doesn’t trust one bit, “I’m curious to see how you’d fare. Not much of a ghost type myself.”

“Of course,” Yukhei rolls his eyes, snatching his papers back. “You’re both terrible friends and I deserve better.”

Dejun’s shout of  _ Don’t come crawling back when the ghost gets you!  _ follows Yukhei on his way out but he decides ignoring it is the best for all parties involved.

*

Yukhei wouldn’t call himself a believer, exactly.

While he does believe there are things out there that can’t be explained he’s not looking for the explanation either. Ghosts could be a thing, why not? He’s never seen one, though, so he doesn’t feel qualified to support either side of the argument.

Still, the whole haunted room story makes him shiver. The room itself looks just like any regular dorm room - tiny, bland, paper-thin walls. It helps that it’s at the end of the hallway, though. He only has neighbours on one side and they seem to be out for the better part of the day and mostly quiet when they are actually home. 

It has been a whole four days since Yukhei moved in and not a single thing has happened. It seems the urban legend is just that - an urban legend.

He can’t wait to rub it in Dejun and Jungwoo’s faces.

On day five, Yukhei’s pencil case is knocked over. 

The window isn’t open so it can’t be the wind but Yukhei does have the annoying habit of putting things wherever, usually within an inch of them falling to their demise. As he picks up the pencils, he has a vague memory of placing the case in the middle of his desk, for this exact reason. Then again, the results are right there, on the ground, rolling under his desk.

This should’ve probably been the first sign that something is wrong and maybe Yukhei should indeed be concerned. But he’s alone and that’s not something he’d be willing to let go anytime soon. 

*

Day seven and Yukhei’s window slams open. It’s rather cold outside so he hurries to close it - this time, he’s absolutely sure the window was closed, latch in place, and it’s not broken. The wind outside isn’t strong enough either.

Yukhei takes a deep breath. Okay, so maybe there’s some truth to Jungwoo and Dejun’s words.

He really has to consider his options here. On one hand, he’s blissfully alone. On the other, a ghost.

He closes his eyes. Right now, there’s no one to wake him up at ungodly hours of the morning, no one to watch anime until late at night, no headphones. He’s been getting enough sleep for the most part, on his own terms. He doesn’t have to share food and no one judges him for the state of said food.

Yukhei tries to imagine moving out,  _ again, _ sharing a space with some random campus weirdo. Again.

Oh yeah. He’s definitely going with the ghost on this one.

*

By Wednesday, week two, Yukhei can tell the ghost is trying really hard. His belongings are straight up flying across the room, conveniently when he’s home. He got used to it by the fifth time his socks came flying out of their drawer. At this point, the only reaction he can muster is duck when yet another sock flies over his head, maybe try to catch it if he’s feeling adventurous.

He draws the line when, instead of socks, it’s a pair of boxers that flies out this time.

It feels a little stupid when Yukhei sits at his floor, cross-legged, staring at his underwear drawer. But it has to be done.

“Look,” he says into the empty space. “We need to draw some boundaries. Flinging my underwear around is kinda creepy.”

“I’ve been messing with you for two goddamn weeks and your boxers is where you draw the line?” And incredulous voice says and Yukhei has about two seconds to prepare himself before the outline of a boy materializes in front of him, mid air.

Yukhei blinks at him, stunned. “You’re really real,” he breathes. “There is a ghost.”

The ghost rolls his eyes. Yukhei didn’t know ghosts could roll their eyes. “I thought the flying socks already established that! What does an undead person have to do to kick you the hell out?”

“Hey,” Yukhei protests, refusing to admit to the hint of a whine in his own voice. “This is my room too! I have all the paperwork and everything.”

The ghost huffs, then disappears. A moment later, he appears right in front of Yukhei’s face, scaring the hell out of him. “Ready to leave now?” The ghost smirks. 

Actually, right about now Yukhei is too busy trying to decide if finding a ghost hot is reason to get himself admitted? Is he having the hots for a dead guy?

“Well?” The ghost questions, his transparent fingers incessantly tapping on his equally transparent hand. It makes no sound.

Yukhei looks up at him, a little dazed. “Well what?”

“Are you going to leave?” The ghost asks, the tapping growing quicker by the second.

“What? No,” Yukhei exclaims. “Why would I leave when I like it here?”

“Because...” the ghost trails off, then heaves a deep sigh. “You’re a special one, aren’t you? Fine,” he grumbles before Yukhei can even think about what to say. “My name is Jaemin but don’t think for a second that I’m gonna leave you alone just because we’re on first name basis now.”

With that the ghost - no, Jaemin - poofs out of existence again. Yukhei is left to stare at his open underwear drawer, wondering if he should maybe feel alarmed that he just had a full conversation with… a ghost. 

His thoughts are interrupted by a pair of socks, balled up and flung at his face. At least they’re clean? There’s a gust of wind even though the window is closed, and it sounds strangely like giggles.

*

Now that Jaemin has introduced himself once, he doesn’t try as hard to keep himself hidden. He’d float into existence when Yukhei comes back from class, keeping him company while he studies, when he eats at his room. Jaemin subtly disappears when Yukhei has to change, too, which is nice. 

Yukhei will still get the occasional sock to the face or a pair of boxers if Jaemin’s feeling particularly petty but despite his threats before, that’s about the extent of his get-out attempts.

And somehow, Yukhei doesn’t think the socks are that anyway.

*

To the outside world, Yukhei is the one who survived the haunted room. He keeps Jaemin to himself, insisting nothing out of the ordinary is gone each time Jungwoo or Dejun question him about it. They give up after a while.

Something in Yukhei doesn’t, though. 

“So...” he starts one day, when Jaemin is floating around him as he’s failing to focus on an essay. At least it’s not due tomorrow. Jaemin hums, floating closer. “What really happened to you?”

Jaemin is quiet for so long that Yukhei is ready to take it back. Offending your house ghost is probably a terrible idea.

Before he can say anything, Jaemin sighs. “I wish I knew. I just… became this, one day. I’m not even sure I’m dead, I don’t remember dying.”

Yukhei stares at him. “So you may not actually be a ghost?”  _ And I might not be developing feelings for a dead guy?  _ “What if-”

“I can’t come back.” Jaemin says, tone final. And then, slower. Quieter. “I don’t know how to. Even if it’s possible?”

“I’m sorry,” Yukhei mumbles. Jaemin’s expression is so sad, he just wants to… hug him. Hugs are great. But his hands will go straight through Jaemin. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I shouldn’t have-”

Jaemin waves a hand, dismissive, a grin replacing the gloomy expression like it was never there. “It’s fine, I’m a big boy. Now do something more interesting, I’m bored.”

Even if his lips are smiling, Jaemin’s eyes still carry a hint of that… sadness. Yukhei pushes the concern down and grins back.

The essay can wait. There are so many movies he wants Jaemin to see.


	29. familiar (jeno/chenle/jaemin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 25 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “I could really eat something.”  
100% inspired by [this](https://twitter.com/NCTsmtown_DREAM/status/1163013228135239680?s=20), [this](https://twitter.com/NCTsmtown_DREAM/status/1163796456886530048?s=20) and [this](https://twitter.com/NCTsmtown_DREAM/status/1164122435475529728?s=20). LOOK AT ME POSTING AT A RELATIVELY NORMAL TIME FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE
> 
> [00fftober day twenty-nine thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1188832836855328768), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day29](https://twitter.com/search?q=%2300FFTOBER_DAY29&src=typed_query&f=live)   
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

“Hello, my name is Lee Jeno.” The camera catches his eyes shifting nervously and follows his line of sight to the end of the black backdrop, revealing a corner full of cables and equipment just to the side. “Sorry, I’m a little nervous.”

“So, Jeno” the cameraman starts, the camera zooming in on Jeno’s face. “Can you tell me who Na Jaemin and Zhong Chenle are to you?”

Jeno’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second and he bites his lip. The camera follows the movement. “Uh, we’re dating?”

*

“We’re dating,” an orange-haired boy says. _ Zhong Chenle _appears at the bottom right of the screen, in small, loopy letters. He looks bored out of his mind. “Isn’t that why we’re here in the first place?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” the cameraman laughs. Chenle doesn’t smile back.

*

“...and then Chenle thought it would be a great idea to freak Jeno out by kissing him but Jeno ended up kissing back and it was the absolute sweetest thing I’ve ever witnessed in my entire life. They’re literally the light of my life even if they annoy me equally every single day and I’ll go white and wrinkly by thirty because they’re absolute idiots but they’re my idiots...”

_ Na Jaemin _ shows up on the screen in the same loopy letters, right before the shot cuts again.

*

“We’ve dated for about two years,” Jeno says, counting off his fingers. “Chenle and Jaemin dated for about a year before that.”

“So that makes you the last one to join, so to say?” The cameraman asks.

Jeno frowns but nods. “I guess.”

“And how does that make you feel?”

Now Jeno straightens up in his chair, expression guarded. “Is it supposed to make me feel a certain way? They knew each other before I knew them, it’s just how it is.”

“I’m sorry,” the cameraman hurries to say. The shot shakes a bit, there’s some shuffling. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Right.” Jeno says. He offers another smile but it doesn’t seem as genuine.

*

“Jeno is a dork,” Chenle says, rolling his eyes. “Jaemin is too, they suit each other very well.”

“And how do they suit you?” The cameraman asks.

Chenle’s eyes narrow. “Perfectly.”

A few seconds of complete silence follow, The look in Chenle’s eyes never changing. There’s some shuffling off camera, then the scene cuts.

*

“We have a very balanced relationship,” Jaemin says, even though he doesn’t look too happy discussing it either. “Each of us has his moods and the others help balance that. Sometimes it takes conversations, sometimes it takes compromise but at the end of the day, we all know what we have is worth more than petty arguments.”

The cameraman clears his throat. “Are there times when one of you is… jealous?”

The smile disappears from Jaemin’s face entirely. “We trust each other. If either of us was the overly jealous type Chenle and I would’ve never met Jeno. At least not like that.”

“Ah,” the cameraman says, sheepish. “I meant more like-”

“I know what you meant.” Jaemin deadpans, eyes hard like steel. 

A moment, then he’s smiling again. There’s an awkward laugh off camera.

*

“I’m not really sure what more to say, honestly,” Jeno shrugs. “I haven’t been in a lot of relationships before but I’m really happy now. I’m really lucky to have both Chenle and Jaemin in my life.”

There’s the click of a door somewhere to the side. “Are you being sappy?” A muffled voice says. The camera turns to show Chenle, with Jaemin hanging off his shoulders. Chenle doesn’t look bothered by his extra appendage at all.

“Stop being mean,” Jaemin chastises, “people are gonna think you don’t love us.”

Chenle rolls his eyes. “The people who need to know I love them already do.” He glances at the camera. “Anyway,” he says, eyes on Jeno again. “Are you hungry? “I could really eat something. Talking about you two is exhausting.”

Jaemin extends a hand over Chenle’s shoulder. Jeno makes a face but takes it anyway. “I’m always hungry.” 

Jeno doesn’t let go of his hand once up. The camera catches him batting his eyelashes at the other two as they exit, then Jaemin’s exasperated “Not my turn to cook, leave me alone.”

The camera follows them until the door slams shut, then silence.

The video cuts again, Subscribe! floating onto the screen in those same loopy letters.


	30. party (jeno/yangyang)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 23 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “You can’t give more than yourself.”  
mentions of alcohol, 00 line only
> 
> [00fftober day three thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1189198724678840322), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day30](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00FFTOBER_DAY30?src=hashtag_click&f=live)   
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic)

Jeno should’ve known this is a bad idea. He really, really should have.

But it’s Yangyang’s birthday and as the last one to cross the adulthood threshold officially, he’d insisted they celebrate by throwing a party. With alcohol.

While Jeno tends to hold his alcohol it still makes him… a little looser, so to speak. Braver. Dumber. 

That’s the only explanation he has to the current situation: them, in a circle, in various states of undress, a bunch of bottles and some cards scattered on the floor. Most of them are Jaemin’s because despite him claiming he’s the only sober one. He’s not. None of them are.

Donghyuck slams his cards down triumphantly, scattering further the ones already on the floor. It wasn’t his turn so he’s mostly ignored. That instantly changes when he follows the cards, flopping face first on the floor.

“Okay,” Renjun says, maybe the only actually sober one (for the most part). “I think that’s enough for tonight. That was probably the worst game of strip poker I’ve ever witnessed considering none of you knew the rules.”

Yangyang rolls his eyes, throwing his cards on the floor as well. “You were right there with us when we googled those rules, you have no room to judge.”

Just like Jeno, Yangyang has his boxers only where Renjun has most of his clothes still on him, though, so Jeno isn’t really sure Yangyang has the right to complain. (What he is sure of, though, is that ever since Jeno’s shirt was sacrificed, Yangyang hasn’t stopped glancing at his arms.)

“Oh trust me,” Renjun huffs, attempting to pick Donghyuck up, off the floor. “I have plenty of room to judge.”

“I’m out too,” Jaemin sighs, pushing the remainder of his beer away. “I’m getting cold.”

“You’re one to talk,” Jeno mutters, watching Jaemin with disdain. He still has his shirt still on so Jeno isn’t sure what Jaemin is mad about.

Jaemin rolls his eyes, even as he wobbles up to his feet. “Not my fault you two suck. It’s almost dawn anyway, I’m exhausted.

That seems to serve as a collective good night because Renjun doesn’t bother with one, too busy dragging Donghyuck across the room with occasional help from Jaemin.

In the end, it’s just Jeno and Yangyang. Jeno shivers - it really is rather chilly and now that the alcohol is starting to wear off he can actually feel it.

“What do you say about one last game?” Yangyang grins, waving a stray jack of clubs. He waggles his eyebrows at Jeno’s exposed thighs.

If this was asked a few hours earlier, Jeno would’ve probably said yes. Right now, he exclaims, “hell no. It’s boring with two people anyway.”

Yangyang shrugs. “We can play something else? We don’t have to bet on clothes again. More like… loser grants the winner a wish?”

“Do I look like a genie?” Jeno rolls his eyes.

“I mean, I’d suggest some other bet but...” Yangyang trails off, exaggeratedly eyeing Jeno up and down. “You can’t give more than yourself.”

“Fuck you,” Jeno mutters. He’s slowly regaining some of his common sense which means it’s screaming how bad of an idea this is, in real time but... “How about bottle flipping?”

“Deal.” Yangyang agrees, grinning.

And really, Jeno should’ve seen this as the very, very bad sign it was.

*

They’re going for three out of five already and so far, Yangyang is winning. At this point, Jeno wonders if he was ever drunk at all.

He flips the bottle a third time and holds his breath. It lands the right way up.

It’s hard to resist yelling in triumph but Jeno somehow manages. When he looks up to gloat about it, he finds Yangyang’s bottle upwards as well. He’s no longer feeling that triumph.

He takes a deep breath, glancing at the morning light streaming through the windows. “Okay, you won. What’s your wish?”

Yangyang seems to think about it. Or pretends to? He’s still looking at Jeno every so often, little glances meant not to be seen.

He grins. Then taps his cheek.

Jeno blinks at him. “You want a kiss?”

“Well,” Yangyang shrugs, “none of you gave me a birthday kiss. I deserve it.”

“Technically your birthday is over,” Jeno can’t help but point out. He gets up anyway.

Yangyang’s skin is ridiculously soft when Jeno traces the edge of his jaw. He plants the kiss before he can talk himself out of it, then hurries back to his place, blindly reaching back for his clothes. The morning chill is getting worse and worse. The whole situation is kind of hurting his brain.

“That was such a copout,” Yangyang sighs, moving to get back into his own clothes as well. 

Jeno stops in the middle of pulling his shirt. He can’t see Yangyang this way, can’t see the daylight either. “If you still want to in the morning, I can try again.”

It’s only silence that follows. There’s no shuffling of clothes, nothing. Even Yangyang’s breathing is barely audible.

“I think I might want to,” he says, so softly Jeno barely catches it, “in the morning.”

It’s surprisingly easy to avoid eye contact, even with his shirt in place. “I think I might too,” he mumbles, not bothering to wait for a reaction.

There aren’t a lot of places you can escape to in someone else’s home but Jeno is creative. He’ll figure it out. Morning is pretty much here anyway.


	31. trick or treat (renjun/hyuck/mark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ig there's a bit of crossdressing. but halloween?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ day 15 of [fictober](https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/post/187894985020/fictober-2019) “That’s what I’m talking about!”  
[00fftober day thirty-one thread](https://twitter.com/00ficfest/status/1189561809918816256), [#00fftober](https://twitter.com/hashtag/00fftober?src=hashtag_click&f=live) / [#00fftober_day31](https://twitter.com/search?q=%2300FFTOBER_DAY31&src=typed_query&f=live)

“This is dumb.” Renjun says as he fixes up the collar of his dress. His wig sits a little askew so he fixes that, too, tugging at each of the braids for good measure. “Why do I have to be the one to open the door to kids?”

“Because your costume is great,” his mom replies, probably for the fifth time. “And because your dad and I are going out.”

Renjun sighs. “We could just like… not open the door to kids?”

“And be rude neighbours?” his mom fake-gasps. “It’s not like you have anything to do before that party of yours.”

Renjun rolls his eyes. In the end, his mom is right, so he doesn’t say anything. Donghyuck should be coming over at some point within the next few hours so they could get ready and, really, Renjun will be here anyway.

But opening the door for children? So his parents can have fun instead? The whole  _ I really think you should come home for Halloween because we miss you _ talk his mom gave him over the phone seems more and more like a scam.

At least Donghyuck will be here, even if Renjun isn’t too thrilled about a party full of strangers (or worse, people he used to go to high school with). It’s nice to see an old friend.

*

Donghyuck’s costume is a sexy nurse. Of course it is.

He takes a look at Renjun’s dress and his braids and says, “when I suggested dressing up as girls I meant something more...”

“Wednesday Addams is a great Halloween costume,” Renjun interrupts. He’s ready for this conversation. “Unlike your nurse, she’s actually creepy and also adorable  _ and  _ a girl.”

“Fine, fine,” Donghyuck concedes, too busy straightening his stockings out on Renjun’s couch. “At least it’s really a girl.”

Renjun watches as the latex dress is taken out next. “Please tell me you’re gonna at least sprinkle some fake blood over that.”

Donghyuck shrugs. “Probably. I have to look appropriately gloomy next to you, after all.”

Renjun heaves what feels like the thirtieth sigh for the night. It’s not even six yet.

*

By eight, they’re both in full costume,the bowl of candy half full by the front door. It’s a little under two hours before it’ll become socially acceptable for them to show up at the party and frankly, at this point Renjun can’t wait.

If he sees one more ten year old girl with blue and pink pigtails he might actually lose it. 

When the doorbell rings next, Donghyuck glances at him, then at the door. It’s not Renjun’s turn to open but considering Donghyuck is in full costume now, stockings and everything, he fears the kids might be scarred for life. He hates them but not  _ that  _ much.

(He hates himself that much, though. There’s something about Donghyuck’s legs in the pristine white stockings and Renjun finds it increasingly harder to look away.)

He opens the door, ready for the next onslaught of  _ Trick or treat!!! _ screeches. Except, it’s not kids.

Okay, that’s an exaggeration. There are four kids in total, dressed as Velma, Fred, Daphne and Scooby Doo respectively. But Shaggy is the one that catches Renjun’s attention within seconds. He seems to be the chaperone and even if Renjun is pretty sure none of his costume is an actual costume, more like clothes scraped off the bottom of his wardrobe, Shaggy is damn hot.

“Oh hey, Mark!” Donghyuck exclaims and, when did he even get there? He’s already giving the candy out, too, all while this Mark specimen is looking each of them over.

When he speaks, his voice sounds a tad bit breathless. “Donghyuck. That’s an interesting costume.” Mark gets a smirk in response which, Renjun has to admit, is kind of hot. Even if he’d never say it to Donghyuck’s face.

Then again, the whole situation makes Renjun wish he’d gone with the sexy version of Wednesday, rather than the accurate one. When he glances back at Mark, though, he quickly averts his eyes, looking anywhere but at Renjun and Donghyuck.

Interesting.

Once the kids are sufficiently distracted by candy, Donghyuck turns back to Mark. “Oh, I should probably introduce you, that’s Renjun.” Renjun does a little wave, then promptly wishes the ground would swallow him whole. At least Mark smiles? “Renjun, Mark,” Donghyuck continues, oblivious. “I think Mark moved overseas before you came but he’s back now.”

“Ah,” Mark starts, interrupted by one of the kids tugging at his shirt sleeve. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles eventually. “We have a few more houses to visit. But see you at the party?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Renjun says before he has time to consider it and Mark grins, and it’s gorgeous. When they’re gone and Renjun’s attention finally returns to Donghyuck, he’s smirking again.

“Someone has a thing for Mark Lee,” Donghyuck teases. Renjun freezes. Was it that obvious? “It’s okay though,” Donghyuck adds, along with a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “I do too.”

“You...” Renjun narrows his eyes, puzzled by Donghyuck’s cheery expression. “If you have a thing for him too, shouldn't you be… I don’t know, more hostile?”

“Oh please,” Donghyuck laughs, pulling Renjun back inside by the dress’ sleeve. “You know what they say! Sharing is caring. And anyway,” he adds, eyeing Renjun’s dress. “I’ve been wanting to make some adjustments to your costume as soon as I saw it. This is not a dress you go pick up boys in.”

Yet again, Renjun sighs. This time in resignation. Because Donghyuck has that look in his eye that means that fighting him on this will be absolutely useless but most of all, because a part of him… wants it. 

Ah well.

*

In the end, the adjustments are just that - adjustments. Donghyuck synches Renjun’s waist with a safety pin and procures a pair of black, thigh high stockings to match. He helps get them on, too, and the whole ordeal involves a hell lot of touching, most of which Renjun is sure is rather unnecessary. Renjun does his best to complain every step of the way, even though Donghyuck’s hands are warm. And kind of really soft.

Renjun’s makeup has some changes too (read: he now  _ has  _ makeup) and all in all, Renjun feels slightly more excited at the prospect of a party.

It may also be because no kids have shown up for the past hour or so.

Donghyuck touches some things up as well - a garter belt is introduced, some rips here and there. That one brings an extra challenge for Renjun’s fragile sanity. Donghyuck struggles quite a bit with clipping the garters on, the already short dress riding even higher. Renjun is in  _ pain. _

A few drops of fake blood to the oh-so-white stockings. A fiery red lipstick which, after a lot of persuasion and bribery ends up on Renjun’s lips as well. 

He does a little twirl in front of the big mirror in the hallway, trying to get used to himself like… this.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Donghyuck grins, propping his chin on Renjun’s shoulder. “You look like a creepy wet dream.”

“Uh,” Renjun mutters, ignoring the shiver running up his spine. “That’s not exactly making me feel better about the whole thing.”

“Nonsense,” Donghyuck huffs, makes the ends of his fringe tickle Renjun’s cheek, right above the braid of his wig. He hurries to shake Donghyuck off before he does something truly stupid.

Donghyuck, on the other hand, isn’t wearing a wig at all which takes from the ironic factor but at this point, Renjun is sure none of this was meant to be ironic in the first place. The stockings really do wonders for Donghyuck’s legs and the dress comes up just under his butt which is… a sight. Renjun has to frantically chase the thoughts away. Maybe he’ll need to start on the alcohol early if he’s going to survive the night of Halloween.

He makes sure to slip out before his parents come home, not too eager to explain the reasons behind his outfit changes.

*

They get quite a few looks when they finally get to the party, some teasing, some… not so much. Renjun isn’t exactly used to this kind of attention but Donghyuck eats it up for both of them.

They get one person’s attention in particular and sure, Renjun may not be used to the looks but Mark’s eyes feel like praise on his skin and he relishes in the feeling. Briefly, he wonders what it would look like if Wednesday Addams kissed Shaggy.

But the night is young and he has yet to acquire one of those generic plastic cups with questionable contents. They have all the time in the world.

(Renjun does get to find out what it looks like, in the end. In fact, he gets to find out how Wednesday Addams would look like in Shaggy’s lap and how Shaggy would look like kissing a bloody nurse. Sometimes all at once. He also finds he quite enjoys the sight.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaand we're done!! in typical me fashion well into early november morning but hey, it's still 31st somewhere in the world right?
> 
> thank you to anyone who stuck with me during this thing (i see you, it may take me a while to reply to comments but i see you and love you <3). i'm gonna try to fight long a/n syndrome this time but!! the biggest thanks to **I** and **B** for all the last minute edits and the handholding and. i love you both, so much. everyone who ever sprinted with me too, ily. sprints keep me alive.  
during the course of writing this i ended up scrapping some ideas and two of them went quite far before that happened - you can find them [here](https://nekrateholic.dreamwidth.org/10407.html) if you wanna and you can find me on [cc](https://curiouscat.me/nekrateholic) if you feel like it :D


End file.
